


A Geography to Inhabit in Need

by handdrawnisopach



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Dark, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Choking, Collars, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Drugged Sex, Dubious Everything Seriously, Dubious Morality, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Genocide, Implied/Referenced Slavery, Jango Fett is not a nice person, M/M, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, Upsetting Imagery, hurt little comfort, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handdrawnisopach/pseuds/handdrawnisopach
Summary: Jango Fett finds Obi-Wan Kenobi in a bar on Mygeeto a few years after the end of the War.  He decides to keep him.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 57
Kudos: 303





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To those responsible for this, you know who you are. Thank you for the encouragement. I adore you all and also I sort of hate you.
> 
> I can't overstate how NOT NICE Jango is in this story.

Jango had his blaster in the Jedi's mouth before he realized the man was blind drunk. The scar from the side of Jango’s neck to just under the opposite arm was courtesy of the last time he'd seen this particular red-head. The Jedi's placid blue eyes were veined with red and pink, and he swayed even while he knelt. The motion made it look like he was trying to blow the barrel of Jango's Westar blaster. 

It was an expression Jango knew too well. If Jango pulled the trigger right now, the Jedi would thank him. Morbidly curious, Jango slid the silver barrel a few centimeters back before pushing it in until he felt the first hint of resistance. The barrel jerked just slightly. Jango realized the Jedi was tonguing it. Before he could react, the Jedi’s already thin cheeks hollowed out as he sucked.

Quickly, Jango pulled his blaster back and offered the Jedi two of his gloved fingers instead. There were a lot of reasons to mix spice and booze, and a lot of things that could make you fly above the pain. The Jedi stared up at him blankly for too long. So crazy then, not an offer.

Jango sighed and started to bring up his blaster again. Then the little bastard deepthroated Jango's fingers like he'd been trained in a hutt brothel. A tongue wormed its way between Jango's leatheris covered fingers, curling around them trying to feel the shape through the heavy material.

Jango rocked his fingers in and out gently at first. The Jedi might be a mystical warrior monk, but those bottles on the table and the empty snap capsules were enough to kill a bantha. Jango carefully pressed deeper as he thrust in, pushing down on the back of the Jedi's tongue. The Jedi moaned as he leaned forward like he was trying to choke himself on the digits.

"Shhh," Jango murmured ignoring the pitiful whimper as he extracted his fingers. "You do that here, I'm going to have to kill everyone in this place to keep from sharing." He holstered his blaster and lifted the Jedi to his shakey feet. "Come with me back to my ship, and I promise you won't remember a thing by the time I'm done with you."

The Jedi blinked at him slowly as the words percolated through the haze of bad decisions. "Will it hurt?"

"Probably," Jango admitted easily. He played rough even with people he liked. "But I'll clean you up afterwards."

"Yes, please," the Jedi said, sweet as uj cake. Jango just resisted the urge to bite that slick, reddened mouth until it bled a little.

The Jedi was steadier once they stepped out into the frigid night air. Mygeeto was no one’s tourist destination. It was icey, dark, and filled with Muun, including the one Jango had just dropped off at an industrial complex on the other side of the city. The contract had been private, and Jango hadn’t asked any questions. It was a bad idea when the client came with a recommendation from the new empress herself.

There were patrols out on the street. White armored clones with the blue stripe of the Consort on the crests of their helmets and the orange bands of the Princess along their vambraces. After the Empress had taken power, she’d granted all the clones citizenship, backpay, and the planet of Concord Dawn. Most of the clones had stayed in the Grand Army though many had moved to Concord Dawn and set up communal homesteads there for their serving brothers.

Last Jango had heard, the Kaminoans had finally given up the gene fix for the accelerated aging after the Consort ordered one of their major population centers bombed from orbit. The chips which had forced the clones to support the birth of the empire had been reprogrammed to suppress the painful memories of what they’d done to their former officers. The Empress gave a whole speech about how the clones had been betrayed by both Palpatine and the Jedi Order. After losing two commanders to the experimental dechipping process, she would put no more of their lives at risk. It’d been honestly moving. Even Jango had almost been convinced.

There were arrest warrants out for the remaining members of the Jedi Order, including the one leaning against Jango. However, the Jedi was dressed like a poor spacer in a baggy flight suit over a stained undershirt. In the dark, with the Jedi’s hair and beard grown shaggy, Jango felt safe enough passing the patrol on the other side of the street. No one looked twice at him. Jango Fett had been personally pardoned by the empress herself as thanks for training her loyal troops. He was a free man from the Core to Wild Space, and the Empress liked to throw the occasional bone his way in the form of high-value, high discretion contracts for her friends.

If Jango was stopped and the Jedi was recognized, he could just claim to be taking him to the Consort as a present. No one would question it. Jango would probably drop him off at the nearest guard post for the bounty once they were done anyways.

The Slave I sat on one of the nice, elevated landing pads waiting patiently. Boba was safely stashed in the reclaimed Fett farmstead on Concord Dawn with his aunt. Arla might not want to talk to Jango, but she adored her nephew. Boba was reaching the age where he and Jango needed space sometimes. Arla was happy to have Boba on the farm whenever Jango needed a break.

The Jedi was only swaying a little when Jango led him up the ramp to the ship. He stood docile as a tame eopie in the living area while Jango stripped him out of his clothes to make sure there were no unpleasant surprises. Jango found a lightsaber in a custom stitched pocket inside the sleeve of the flightsuit. Despite the poor state of his clothes, the Jedi was relatively clean smelling only faintly of deathsticks and the artificially sweet stench of sweating out glitteryll.

Jango grinned wolfishly beneath his helmet. “Oh you poor thing.” He reached down without removing his glove and grasped the limp cock letting the well-worn leather scratch across delicate skin. The Jedi gasped, freezing in place as his vibrant blue eyes went nearly black when the already dilated pupils expanded further. It wasn’t fear.

Ever so slowly, Jango rolled his thumb against the plump head pressing down on the slit. The Jedi shuddered but his cock barely twitched. “You’ve never taken glitteryll before or you’d know that most humans and near-humans can’t get it up until the high passes.” Jango squeezed the soft cock in his hand almost affectionately. “I could get down on my knees right now and suck you like a twi’leki dancing girl, and you’d just flop out of my mouth.”

The Jedi couldn’t quite suppress a moan. HIs swaying was more directed now as his bare skin brushed over Jango’s armor. “That’s okay though, isn’t it, sweetheart. You don’t really need this do you?” Jango clenched his hand and twisted. The Jedi screamed, falling against Jango’s breastplate, fingers scrambling for purchase. Jango wrapped an arm around him rubbing knuckles soothingly down the pronounced dip of the lithe spine. “Shh,” he murmured. “If you stop wailing maybe I’ll stop.” The noise cut out abruptly.

Jango released his cruel grip bringing up both arms to support the Jedi. The lighter man was trembling, skin nearly sickly white beneath a charming spray of freckles. “You really will just let me do whatever I want, won’t you?” Jango had half expected to be thrown into a wall for his little stunt. “You poor bastard. What did you take? Words.”

“I don’t know,” the Jedi admitted turning his face into Jango’s neck and nuzzling. “I bought a cheap mixed bag, took most of it.”

“If you puke on me I’ll break your neck,” Jango warned as he dragged his gloves down the Jedi’s sides to squeeze his well-toned ass. Then he slapped one cheek hard to leave a mark that was going to bruise in the morning. The Jedi moaned, head falling to Jango’s shoulder as he pushed his ass back for more. Whatever he’d taken it’d scrambled his neurons but good. “You going to be good for me, sweetheart?” Jango taunted punching the cheek opposite the one he’d slap, letting the weight of durasteel carry through the blow.

The Jedi nodded frantically into Jango’s shoulder. “I’ll be good,” he promised breathing through the impact. “Please. I’ll be good.”

Jango trailed his fingers down one asscheek to the Jedi’s thigh, tracing under the curve of the muscle until his hand closed around the tender sack hanging there. “I’m sure you’ll try,” he reassured the Jedi rolling his balls between the layers of leatheris. The Jedi made a soft noise of protest. “Why don’t you kneel down for me?” Jango said with faux concern. He eyed his armored boot thoughtfully but shook off the idea. It was no fun if the Jedi stayed soft the whole time.

The Jedi went to his knees gracefully, knees together, hands laced primly in his lap. It looked like a pose he was familiar with. “You’re going to crawl after me to my bunk,” Jango ordered. He almost hoped the Jedi would defy him. He wanted to see if the jedi would scream again with his balls pinned to the floor by Jango’s bootheel.

However, the Jedi dropped to all fours waiting expectantly. Jango sighed and leaned down enough to drag a hand along one well-muscled shoulder. “Well, I suppose it’ll have to wait.” He strode towards his room not bothering to match his stride to a pace the Jedi could comfortably maintain.

Jango already had his helmet off and was working on his kneeplates when the Jedi scrambled through the door. “Since you decided to be lazy, I don’t have time to prep you,” Jango announced. “Get up here and get some fingers in your ass unless you want to be fucked dry.”

The Jedi scrambled to comply, finding the small bottle of medical lube Jango had left on the pillow. He flung himself onto the bed parting his lanky legs for better access. Jango slowed down taking more time with the buckles of his armor to watch the show.

With his index and middle finger shiny with the thin lube, the Jedi held his bottom lip tightly between his teeth as he rubbed his own stomach trying to self-soothe as he pressed both fingers inside himself. Jango took the time to put his armor on the stand but kept his flightsuit on. Despite the Jedi living rough he was still well muscled with the lithe lines of a dancer. One of his legs hung off Jango’s narrow bunk to make more space for his hand moving between his thighs. His free hand was pressed to the wall at the head of the bed practically begging to be pinned there.

The thought made Jango smile as he selected a pair of binders from his gunbelt. Nothing fancy just a set wide durasteel cuffs with a short, thick-linked chain between them. There was a quiet gasp from the bed, bitten off when the Jedi realized how loud he’d been in the silent room. “You like the idea of being tied up,  _ jetii _ ?” He watched out of the corner of his eye as the Jedi tried to decide to speak up. “Too bad.” Jango made to hook the binders back to his belt.

“No, please, you can tie me up,” the Jedi said in a rush. He started to push himself up with his fingers still in his ass. The movement made him hiss as he shifted. “Please!”

“Well,” Jango drawled, turning to hide his grin, “if that’s what you want, I guess I don’t mind.” He considered going to the storage unit by the cells and getting the durasteel collar that went with the cuffs, but he didn’t want to leave the Jedi alone for that long. He went to the cupboard where he kept his clothes instead and found a narrow leatheris belt he’d used with an undercover ensemble at some point. “But you’re going to have to do something for me.”

The Jedi whimpered when he saw the belt and cowered back a little. “Shh,  _ udesii _ ,” Jango crooned, walking over the bunk to stroke the ragged, copper-colored hair. “Not this time,  _ jetii _ .” The Jedi’s pupils were so blown that his eyes were black with only a thin ring of washed-out blue at the very rim. Somehow those pupils went even wider when Jango dropped the loop of the belt over the Jedi’s head pulling it too tight for a moment. “You want to play with my cuffs, you’re going to have to wear my collar. Republic dog like you ought to be used to it.”

The Jedi’s full mouth parted trying to draw in a breath, but the belt wouldn’t let him. Jango let the tension ease so the belt was snug but no longer suffocating. He rasped his nail down the leatheris to mark the point. Then he removed the belt and used his knife to notch the leather where he’d left the mark it would buckle around the Jedi’s neck. “So?” he asked, using his thumb to brush away the small bits of the leatheris resulting from his modification.

The Jedi lifted his chin leaning towards Jango. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Jango buckled his makeshift collar around the Jedi’s pale neck, resisting the urge to pull it tight again for long just to watch the man struggle. Careless of what the Jedi was doing, he yanked the Jedi’s hand from between his legs and slapped the first cuff around it. Then he grabbed the Jedi’s other hand and locked it in place. There was only about ten centimeters of chain between the cuffs. Just enough Jango wrapped the tongue of the belt around the chain and pulled until the Jedi’s hands were under his chin, elbows bent, and balls of his thumbs pressed to his collarbones.

With a soft moan, the Jedi started to lean back and spread his legs. Jango delivered a ringing slap to one of his inner thighs. The pain made the Jedi arch, crying out as he teared up with the unexpected blow. Seizing the fine-boned jaw, Jango yanked his head around without regard for the angle of the rest of his body. “What makes you think you just get to lay there like a needy little akk bitch.” He slapped the inside of the other thigh. “If you want my cock so badly you can work for it. On your knees!”

He watched as the Jedi struggled to roll over without the use of his hands. When he leaned too far, Jango did nothing and watched as the Jedi tumbled off the bunk to hit the floor shoulder first. “Such a fucking mess,” he muttered in faux disgust. “Don’t know why I’m even bothering.”

Stepping over the Jedi, Jango adjusted the pillow so he could rest his back comfortably against the wall. Then he unsealed the front of his flightsuit and shrugged out of the arms. He lay back on the bunk comfortably, propped up by the pillow and rubbed himself through the well-worn cloth of his briefs before easing the elastic back over his cock and behind his balls so he could stroke himself properly.

As he working up to jacking himself properly, there was pressure on the mattress. He looked over to see the Jedi’s flushed face, features slack with desire and drugs, watching him. “Please,” the Jedi whispered, staring at Jango’s cock like he wanted to swallow it whole. “Please, I’ll be good.”

“You’re doing a shit job of it so far,” Jango said archly, slowing the pace of his stroking to spend some time rolling his thumb against the head. “You’re so high you can’t stay on the bed. If I wanted a partner too blown out on spice to be anything more than a wet hole, I would have paid one of the dancers. At least they aren’t so pathetic when they beg.”

The Jedi bit his lower lip. He was actually tearing up. Jango wasn’t sure he liked the sharp, ugly pang of vindictive pleasure it gave him. “Tell you what,  _ jetii _ , I’m a generous guy. You make up here, get yourself in position, and I’ll let you ride me. I’ll even help you get my cock in that needy hole. You fuck up again, and I’ll just leave you on the floor while I take care of myself.”

The Jedi was already struggling to his feet. He threw the upper half of his body onto the bunk ignoring the way his bound hands yanked on his neck. With that leverage, he managed to find his feet. He took a moment to catch his breath, eyes running down Jango’s body in appreciation and to prevent a misplaced knee. Then the Jedi swung himself up onto the bed, straddling Jango’s thighs, with so much grace Jango knew the bastard had cheated.

Nexu-quick, Jango’s hand darted out and seized the soft, pale cock. “I should have put a fucking supressor on you,” he growled squeezing in a way that would have been pleasant if the Jedi had been able to get hard. “You think you’re a clever little Jedi mutt? Do a couple magic tricks and get to sit on my cock like a good boy?” The Jedi whimpered as Jango forcefully tugged the soft, rapidly reddening flesh in his fist. “You’re fucking useless to me. You can’t even get hard. Can’t magic that way, can you?”

There was a rattle followed by a strangled cry as the Jedi forgot his hands were secured to his neck. Jango just pressed his nails into the spongy flesh of the Jedi’s cock in warning. “Are you trying to get out of the binders?” he asked mildly.

The Jedi froze like prey who’d just realized a predator was watching. “No?” he said shakily and it was a question.

“I didn’t think so.” Jango slapped that lovely, rounded ass where there was already a red mark. He leaned over and grabbed a can out of the small cabinet built into the wall at the head of his bed. While the Jedi watched, Jango applied the spray-on barrier. “Don’t know where that desperate ass has been,” Jango said with a desultory shrug. “You’re sure as sleenshit not worth the creds for broad-spectrum hypo. Up.” The Jedi’s thigh flexed as he pushed himself and walked forward on his knees. As promised Jango grabbed on asscheck pulled it aside, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. Then he fisted his own cock and guided it into the slicked hole. 

It took every gram of self-control Jango had not to let out an appreciative groan. The Jedi was still tight despite prepping himself and hot as a coronal flare inside. Jango couldn’t help the full body flex that had him rolling his hips up into the curve of the Jedi’s ass. “You waiting for an invitation,” he barked when the Jedi just kept sitting there, lips parted and staring at Jango. “Move!” He slapped low across the lines of the Jedi’s solid abdominals so the edge of his hand came precariously near the limp cock.

The Jedi took the order with the eagerness of a racing fathier springing out of the starting gate. Jango had to grab at the lean hips just to keep his cock from slipping out of the Jedi. “That’s more like it,” Jango said with a real smile. It was hard to play pissy when there was a beautiful man, delicate, pink flush rising up his chest and cheeks, bouncing on your cock like it was everything he ever wanted. “Fuck me. You might be worth keeping after all.”

“Please,” the Jedi gasped. The word choked off into a series of formless vowel sounds as Jango started thrusting up as the Jedi dropped down.

When the Jedi started to slow down, Jango was too impatient to verbally whip him to a better speed. Clenching the Jedi’s hair in one fist to control the man’s head, Jango rolled them out of the bunk onto the floor. The landing knocked the breath out of the Jedi, but Jango’s hand protected his head and neck. Jango fucked him through the sudden soundlessness chasing the winding heat twisted tight below his stomach. Powerfully, lanky legs came up and wrapped around Jango’s waist to give him a better angle to thrust down. Jango pressed his forehead to the rough hair on the Jedi’s chin and mouth blindly as fingers softly stroked across his lips.

Jango ground down and in as he came with a hiss through his clenched teeth. Then he bucked his hips a few more times just to enjoy the aftershocks. The Jedi was breathing hard, red flushed cheeks and eyes that were glassy from more than just the drugs. “Fuck,” Jango breathed letting his head rest on the Jedi’s shoulder. “Forget the bounty. I should just sell you to a hutt brothel. They’d pay a premium.”

The Jedi was limp under him. If Jango had been twenty years younger, he would have tried to fuck himself into round two but he wasn’t. And the Jedi seemed to have passed out at some point. Jango groaned and eased himself free. “You useless spice-head,” he sighed. Still, he dutifully untied the belt from the binders.

Jango needed sleep. He also needed to get the hell off Mygeeto and home before Boba got impatient. Arla would only hold his son back for a day or two before unleashing him upon the galaxy if Jango had the bad grace to be late. Eyeing the Jedi, he shrugged. He could dump the poor bastard when he stopped for fuel. Despite running his mouth, he wasn’t interested in collecting this bounty. The Jedi wasn’t prey. He was shattered pieces of a once formidable foe. There was no honor in taking money for the Jedi’s own self-destruction.

He rolled the Jedi over into the recovery position and made sure the tongue of the belt wasn’t caught on anything. It’d be amusing to see the Jedi wake up still wearing the symbols of his bad decision. Tossing a blanket over him so he wouldn’t freeze to death when the ship’s temperature dropped as they hit hyperspace, Jango left the Jedi to sleep off whatever was still in his system and went to program in the jumps that would take him home to Boba.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a bowl of shuura fruit in the chiller unit. Jango hummed happily and snatched it up to go with his morning mug of caf. He stuck his head in the cockpit long enough to confirm that the Slave I was still en route to Concord Dawn. Then he set himself up in the kitchen. Since Boba wasn’t there to learn from his bad example, Jango kicked his armored boots up onto the table as he set the bowl of fruit next to him and his mug on the table. His flightsuit was in the sonic cleaner recovering from the fluids smeared on it the night before leaving him in the blue tunic and leggings leftover from his stint on Kamino.

He pulled his knife out his boot and set to peeling the first shuura fruit. The Slave I was too quiet without the background noise of Boba moving around. Jango kept waiting for a question about astronavigation or the best way to counter-stalk a trandoshan. Instead, it was just the hum of the hyperdrive keeping him company. He’d have to get used to it. Boba was getting too old to go everywhere with him. Sooner rather than later, Jango was going to get the boy his own ship. Then Jango would be spending most of his time alone again. It wasn’t a thought that sat well with him.

Jango carved off a piece of shuura eating the juicy, pale flesh directly off the blade. It was still ripe, creamy instead of grainy. To distract himself from his maudlin revelation, Jango considered what type of ship he should get Boba. It shouldn’t be too nice. Boba deserved a chance to use the credits from his victories outfit and customize a ship to match his needs as Jango had. However, a solid base model would give Boba a leg up in earning those credits.

The door to his bunk slid open with a quiet chime. Jango had turned on the alarm to warn him when the door opened just in case the Jedi came to his senses. He doubted the man was sober, but the glitteryll should have worn off. It metabolized quickly in humans. It took him a moment to locate the clinking sound of metal on metal as the Jedi, rather than storming out in a huff of offended dignity, crept cautiously out of the room on hands and knees.

He was biting his lip looking like he was waiting for a kick as he shuffled his bond hands forward. It melted Jango’s heart a little. Swinging his legs off the table he rested his feet on the floor with his knees spread and patted his thigh. “If you crawl over here I’ll pet you,” he said quietly to avoid startling the Jedi.

To his startled pleasure, the Jedi’s eyes lit up, a shy smile tugging at his mouth, before he ducked his head and shuffled over. In the stark, industrial lighting of the Slave I’s living area, the damage from the night before was visible in a way it hadn’t been in the lower light of Jango’s room. Besides the bruises Jango had left, dark smudges on milky white, freckled skin, the lines of him were sharp. Unhealthily so.

Jango cut off another sliver of shuura, chewing it slowly to enjoy the sweet juice. The Jedi settled between his knees, sitting back pretty as a display in a certain kind of club. Reaching down, Jango guided the Jedi’s cheek to rest against his knee. He ruffled copper hair fondly only grimacing a little when it crunched with sweat. The Jedi was definitely coming down if he had the sweats.

“You hungry?” Jango murmured trailing his fingers across a bite bruise on the Jedi’s shoulder he didn’t remember making. The Jedi considered the fruit then reluctantly shook his head. He nosed at the soft fabric of Jango’s knee to encourage more petting.

Irritated for some reason he refused to think about too closely, Jango cut off another slice of shuura and rubbed the soft flesh across the Jedi’s mouth leaving behind smears of pulp and juice. Then he popped the piece into his mouth. Around the chewing, he ordered, “Lick your lips.”

The Jedi’s eyes went wide, pupils still a little blown out but more aware, at the sweet taste. “Good isn’t it,” Jango said genially as he cut himself another slice. He bit it in half and pressed the smaller piece against the Jedi’s lips. “Go on,” he coaxed like the Jedi was a reluctant strill, “this bit is yours.”

Licking his lips once more, the Jedi leaned over and gingerly bit into the far end of the fruit piece before drawing back. He chewed and swallowed before letting out a small, happy sigh. Jango cut off a larger piece for himself. While he chewed, he cut off a second sliver and pushed it between eagerly parted lips. The Jedi closed his mouth delicately so as not to nip Jango. Instead he sucked the juice off Jango’s fingers as he pulled away. Jango made sure to squeeze the next slice he offered a little too hard so the Jedi was forced to suck on his fingers to get all the pulp.

The warm, wet pressure made Jango lick his own lips. He continued like that, alternating feeding himself and the Jedi slices of shuura, until the bowl was half empty. There was dessert tonight to think of after all. Especially since the Jedi looked damn good begging for another bite.

Jango offered his hand for one last cleaning and could only grin as the Jedi’s pink tongue lapped like a tooka’s over the pads of his fingers. He glanced over at the bootknife he was still holding. Juice and white pulp beaded the durasteel. Normally, Jango would go to the kitchenette and rinse the blade before oiling and sheathing it. “If you’re still hungry there’s some left on the knife.” He offered the knife blade up to the Jedi. It was meant as a joke and not a particularly nice one.

The Jedi looked straight in Jango’s eyes as he ran his tongue daintily along the length of the blade. Jango hissed between his teeth, cock hard enough he could feel the loose material of his leggings rasping against it. The Jedi dipped his head lapping another stripe up the blade until the side facing him was clean except for a touch of spit. Jango turned the knife so the other side faced the strange creature on his knees for Jango, not quite believing what he was seeing. The Jedi used his tongue diligently, flicking across the durasteel without missing a spot. The knot of heat in Jango’s belly wanted to see that tongue at work on his greaves.

“What are you?” Jango asked, tilting his head as he brought the blade of the now clean knife to rest against skin reddened by the makeshift collar rubbing for too long. The Jedi swallowed, his bobbing throat might have drawn blood against the sharp edge if Jango had been any less skilled.

“I’m nothing,” the Jedi admitted. “Just an unwanted relic of a past that’s already being forgotten.” He smiled dreamily, his washed out blue eyes suddenly sparking bright with life, “But you know me, Jango Fett.” Tilting his head he offered his throat. “Go ahead. I can hardly grudge you your revenge now.”

Jango’s breath came out as a shuddery huff. He realized the knife was already on the table. Some instinct had made him move it well away. “Didn’t you know,  _ jetii _ ? The best revenge is worth living for.” He used his free hand to push the Jedi’s lank hair out of his face. “Why don’t you open your mouth for me instead?”

The Jedi blinked sleepily up at him so innocent Jango felt like he was defiling something as he pulled his leggings down. It was a nice feeling. Especially when those plump, pink lips parted to reveal an eager tongue. Jango didn’t bother moving himself, instead guiding the Jedi's head down onto his cock with gentle pressure. The Jedi let out a quiet sigh of pleasure as Jango urged him to start bobbing in slowly. Last night was plenty of hard and fast. Sometimes Jango liked to take his time to really enjoy himself.

Jango leaned back against his seat holding the Jedi down just a little longer each time, pushing a little further down the willing throat. Once the Jedi caught on and matched his breathing to Jango's guidance, Jango pushed him all the way down until his nose bumped Jango's stomach.

It was only for a few moments, but all the tension flowed out of those lean, powerful shoulders. The Jedi's bound hands remained sitting primly on his thighs, unmoving, the whole time. His cock was hidden modestly by his hands, but not so much Jango couldn’t see it start to fill and twitch. Jango grinned already thinking of what he could do with his new toy.

When Jango let up, the Jedi tried to stay down and had to be coaxed far enough back to breathe. "Sorry. I can choke you later if that's what you want," Jango murmurs rubbing gently at the hinge of the Jedi's jaw to alleviate any ache. "But we're not doing that cold with my cock in your mouth." Especially when the Jedi was finally hard enough to play with properly. The Jedi huffed, but obediently started bobbing his head again. Jango picked up his caf, keeping a hand on the back of the Jedi's head, and sipped. He wasn’t twenty-five anymore. After the night before, things were going to take a bit longer.

Luckily, the Jedi seemed perfectly content to stay between Jango's legs for the rest of the day. Jango worked on his caf slowly, savoring the fact it was the real thing reheated instead of instant. He kept a languid hand on the back of the Jedi’s head to set the pace of that tender, heated mouth as it moved up and down his shaft. The Jedi’s tongue remained politely flat, sliding along Jango’s cock with no excess motion and keeping the pleasure at a low simmer rather than an urgent burn.

“Move your hands,” Jango ordered, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling the Jedi’s head back. “Let me see that pretty, little cock of yours.” The Jedi blushed only reluctantly lifting his hands away so Jango could see the long, pale cock with its tender pink head just visible as it bobbed under his gaze. “Was it too sore to jerk yourself off this morning?” Jango asked sympathetically. “I was rough last night.”

“I…” the Jedi looked lost.

Jango shushed him quickly since disorientation wasn't the point this time. “Don’t worry about it,  _ jetii _ . Why don’t you go ahead and finish up what you were doing. You’ve done a good job so far. I think you deserve a reward.” He tapped the head of his cock against the Jedi’s plush lower lip. “Be a good boy now before I change my mind.” The Jedi hummed as Jango shoved his face down onto Jango’s cock.

Jango closed his eyes as he yanked the Jedi’s head down while he thrust up with his hips. “Use your fucking tongue. I know you can. I’ve heard you speak,  _ paklalatii _ .” The clever tongue responded to the jab by rubbing up against the sensitive spot just under the head of Jango’s cock. “Yeah. Like that.” Grunting Jango leaned over the Jedi fucking the last few inches into the willing throat until pulling back until only the tip remained grasped weakly by despearate lips.

“Don’t swallow,” was the only warning Jango gave the Jedi before working himself with the hand not clenched in the Jedi’s hair until he finished in the Jedi’s mouth.

The Jedi jerked but obediently didn’t swallow. Spit and semen leaked out of the corners of his mouth until he figured out how to close his lips. “Good boy,” Jango said breathlessly, releasing his fistful of hair to stroke over the now matted strands. “You did well. Come here, sit on my lap.”

He gathered the Jedi up, pleased to see the other man still hadn’t swallowed. Once the Jedi was settled chest to chest with Jango, Jango hooked the Jedi’s knees with his own and moved to brace his boots against the edge of the table. The Jedi was bendy enough that his legs spread with ease as he leaned forward giving Jango a decent view down the back of the Jedi’s body to the round, well-muscled ass.

“I just need a little lube,” Jango reassured the Jedi, sliding two fingers into his full mouth. It caused some spurting but Jango just wiped it up with his thumb rubbing the mess over his fingers until they were slick. Then he lifted his empty caf mug to the Jedi’s mouth with his clean hand. “You can spit now, if you’d like.” It was a pro forma offer. The Jedi already had semen in his unprotected mouth, and Jango was planning on shoving some up that pert ass.

Almost defiantly, the Jedi swallowed. Jango chuckled darkly. “Aren’t you sweet,” he cooed, reaching down with his wet fingers to rub at the no doubt sore hole. “Oh, you’re hot. Did I hurt you last night?” he eased his index finger inside feeling the tacky remains of the cheap lube. “Maybe I should put you up on the table, have you hold your ass open for me, make sure the damage isn’t too bad.” The Jedi shuddered and ducked his head. “Or you could stay right here in my arms. I think I can do this by touch.” Jango eased a second finger into the still stretched hole, not thrusting just twisting, probing a little. “I’m going to need an answer, or we can do this in the infirmary with you strapped down to a gurney.”

“Your lap,” the Jedi said so quickly he almost tripped over the words. “Please, just here.”

Jango made a mental note about the Jedi’s aversion to anything too close to medical examination. “Of course. This is your reward,  _ jetii _ .” Scissoring his fingers, he turned his wrist trying to find a good angle. It took a bit of work but he finally brushed up against something slightly harder than the soft flesh around it. The Jedi moaned, jerking in Jango’s arms. His hard cock rutted up against the fabric of Jango’s shirt leaving a wet streak behind. Jango smiled into the Jedi’s shoulder kneading the tense muscles there as he rubbed and pushed with his fingers buried deep inside the Jedi until the Jedi gave in and let out a ragged moan.

“Does that feel good?” Jango asked unnecessarily just to hear the gasp of affirmation. “Okay, I’m glad to hear it.” Then he pulled fingers away pushing the Jedi back. “Only one small problem.” He gestured at the dark streaks on his shirt. “You’re such a fucking mess.” The Jedi flinched. “If you can’t control yourself then you are just a Republic dog. I only reward good boys not Republic dogs.”

It wasn’t hard to heave the Jedi onto the floor. Jedi yelped as his bruised shoulder smacked durasteel paneling. “Well,  _ jetii _ , are you a Republic dog?”

“Please, stop calling me that,” the Jedi begged, blue eyes welling up. “It’s gone. You won.”

The begging made something black and ugly rise in Jango’s chest. “Did I? Then what am I called,  _ jetii _ ? I know Kryze fucked a real language into you at some point. Use it.”

“‘ _ Alor _ ,” the Jedi choked out. “Please. I can’t… Please.”

Jango paused the rage dissolving like smoke upon hearing his old title. He sighed heavily and snapped his fingers pointing at his boot now resting on the floor. “You’re right. That wasn’t fair.” The Jedi scrambled over to press his face to Jango’s knee once more. “It’s not your fault, not really. You can’t help what you were.” None of them could. Jango threaded his fingers through the greasy red hair making a decision. “But you’re my mutt now. So you can hump my boot if you still want to get off.”

The Jedi didn’t even hesitate so eager to divert Jango’s wrath. He slung his cuffed hands over Jango’s thigh as he straddled Jango’s foot. Jango kept his hand on the Jedi’s hair petting as the Jedi gasped at the touch of cold durasteel against his hard cock. “If it hurts too much you can use your hands to help.”

“Would it make you happy?” the Jedi asked, swallowing hard.

Jango considered the question. “I’d like to watch you get off. If you can manage it using just my boot, I’ll enjoy it a lot more.”

The Jedi’s hand stayed on Jango’s thigh as those dancer’s hips began to move, rubbing the Jedi’s cock against the armor plates on Jango’s boot. Jango wished he had some caf left over to wet his suddenly dry throat as tears leaked out of the corner of the Jedi’s clenched eyes. Moisture clung to thick lashes framing the Jedi’s eyes dramatically whenever he could find the fortitude to open them to check Jango was watching. Jango kept up his petting to reassure the Jedi he was extremely interested in the way the Jedi was chewing his own lips red in response to the discomfort.

It took a very long time for the Jedi to come. Jango didn’t bother demanding he clean Jango’s greaves with his tongue when he finished. The Jedi was red-faced, panting, and shaking so hard he was having trouble hanging onto Jango’s thigh. Instead, Jango released the binders and unbuckled the belt around the Jedi’s neck. He set them on the table before sliding down to the floor and letting the Jedi cry into his shoulder.

“You’re going to need a name at some point,  _ jetii _ ,” Jango said as he rubbed slow circles across skin gone chilly with dried sweat. The only answer he got was a sob. It could wait until later.

When the Jedi had calmed enough his hands only shook occasionally, Jango got them both to their feet and half-carried him down into the cargo bay. There were four cells he kept for hard merchandise, live bounties. He chose the cell made of transparisteel set up for easy santition if things got messy. The bed was just a durarubber mat secured to the floor, and there was a simple, reinforced durasteel fresher setup attached to the wall with a drain in the middle of the floor to collect the runoff from cleaning.

He set the Jedi on the bed before going across the room to the cabinets where he kept the equipment for dealing with prisoners. Jango Fett’s fees were steep and those prices came with certain expectations. One of those was that the bounty being delivered looked at least somewhat like the expected target. For that reason, Jango kept a basic set of barber’s tools next to the binders and shocksticks.

The Jedi just blinked when Jango came in holding the duraplast case in one hand and dragging a hose with the other. Jango started by smearing dilaptory gel all over the ragged carpet that was pretending to be a beard. He almost did the same for the Jedi’s hair but couldn’t bring himself to get rid of all of it. Red heads weren’t exactly common in the galaxy. “You look good with long hair,” he sighed starting the clippers. “It’s too bad you’re such a fucking mess you can’t manage it.”

Jango buzzed off the worst of tangles leaving a couple centimeters of fine, brilliantly copper fuzz behind. The Jedi seemed too shocked to protest as the clumps hit the floor. Since there wasn’t any protest, and Jango knew what he liked, he smeared more of the depilatory cream under the Jedi’s arms, across his chest, and thoroughly coated his genitals and ass. The Jedi didn’t do more than gasp when Jango coated his balls.

After the gel had done its work, Jango picked up the hose and adjusted it so the water was lukewarm. (He’d spliced in a hot water line after the sixth time Boba had to rinse him off armor and all.) Jango propped the Jedi against the wall opposite the bed and hosed him down thoroughly. The gel worked wonders leaving smooth skin behind and a face could have belonged to a man two decades younger if not for the crows feet. “Stars, you’re even more handsome without the beard,” Jango informed his Jedi, petting the newly revealed skin. “I always wondered why you didn’t go crew cut and clean shaven like your commander. It’s more practical in the field. But everyone would have thought you were a baby Jedi.” With his short hair and clean-shaven checks, no one was going to match this man to one on the bounty contract holos.

His Jedi blinked at him, not fully with it as he started his first standard day without a fresh hit of something. The endorphins had taken the edge off initially. Depending on what exactly had been in his Jedi’s grab bags, he’d be absolutely miserable starting in a few hours and lasting as much as a week. Jango took one of the monitoring bracelets out of his kit and locked it around his Jedi’s wrist. “That’s going to send your vitals to the ship’s central computer so I’ll know if you start crashing,” Jango explained as he cleaned up. “I’ll crank up the heat so it's comfortable for a human standard without clothes. The blue button on the fresher will give you potable water. Don’t worry about the mess. I can hose off you and the cell easily enough.”

“What?” his Jedi finally asked in fearful confusion.

Jango shut and locked his case, giving the hose a hard yank so it rolled up by itself. “You’re going to detox, _ ner’jetii _ . I’m not giving you any more spice.”

His Jedi stared at him. “Why?”

“It’s an expensive, disgusting habit. I won’t have it around Boba or Arla.” Jango walked out of the cell and slapped the panel to close the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours with a bacta bag. It won’t help with most the symptoms, but it should keep you from going into organ failure.”


	3. Chapter 3

Arla Fett picked up the rifle when the perimeter sensor buzzed at her. She checked the security grid and put the weapon back on the rack with a sigh when she saw the beacon for the Slave I. Her brother was home, and he’d missed latemeal as always. She turned off the alert buzzer before it could wake Boba. Her nephew was asleep after a long day hunting the local predators who’d been harassing their bantha herd. Arla hadn’t had to ask for the help. Boba had volunteered. Whatever else he’d done, her brother had raised a sweet, helpful young man who had better control over his heinous Fett temper than either Arla or Jango.

Outside a bantha crooned in distress as lights flickered across the wall of the main room where Arla was sitting. There was a sound like the wind when it rolled in off the mountains, rushing like white water. Arla turned off the datapad she was pretending to be using and picked up the blanket off the back of her chair to wrap around her shoulders. She felt the cold more keenly these days.

She stepped out onto the pourstone porch Jango had built at the start of summer so Arla could lounge in the sun after a long day yelling at agricultural droids. The Slave I was on the landing pad next to the barn. In the harsh glow of the floodlights installed around the pad, Arla could see her brother moving around hooking up the various hoses that would refill the ship’s water and fuel tanks.

Ship secured, Jango made his way up the pourstone path to the house. His armor was in a mesh bag slung over his shoulder. He wore his gunbelt directly over his flightsuit. There was a second bundle tucked under his other arm. Arla couldn’t help but smile at the jaunty bounce to his stride. The hunt had gone well.

Jango stopped in front of her on the porch, setting his armor on the ground so he could put his clenched fist over his heart. “ _ Arla’vod _ .” He dipped his head respectfully. It was the greeting of a commando to their clan chieftain, and the ritual felt less and less like some kind of perverse, awkward children’s pageant each time they did it. Arla had been lost too long, and her little brother too long alone, to ever be what they should have been. But Arla was the eldest sibling, the natural heir to Clan Fett. Her little brother had swallowed his pride, only choking on it a little, and let her take her rightful place.

“Welcome home,  _ vod’ika _ ,” Arla said, powering past the moment of awkwardness when the boy who’d once been  _ Mand’alor _ bowed to his elder sister who’d been a brainwashed  _ Kyr’tsad _ assassin. “How was your hunt?”

Jango grinned. He looked so much like their father Arla’s breath caught. “It went very well.” He presented the bundle to her. This was how Arla knew that, despite how they butted heads, Jango was serious about rebuilding their clan. Every cred he made, every cred he spent, passed first through Arla’s hands as clan chieftain and bookkeeper. Arla wasn’t petty enough to make him ask for money whenever he needed it. She issued him a weekly stipend just like their mother had when Clan Fett had been more than two broken, old warriors and a child. It felt good to get a comm requesting funds when his ship needed major repairs and being able to grant his request without worrying about having enough creds for food.

Arla took the bundle and unwrapped the length of shimmersilk. At the center were two uncut corsuca gems. There was probably ten thousand creds in her hands. It was merely symbolic. The rest of the money would be deposited in the clan account. “A very good hunt,” Arla said approvingly. “Come on. I’ll heat you something up for latemeal.”

“I already ate, but thank you.” Jango leaned down and picked up his armor. “Boba?”

“Asleep. He had a long day.” Arla opened the door and gestured for Jango to enter the house. “Go say hello. I’ll put this in the safe.”

Jango nodded in thanks eagerly striding towards his son’s room. Arla smiled to herself because Jango hadn’t yet run her over in his eagerness to get to Boba. Yet being the key word. The older the boy got, the more desperate her little brother was to enjoy the last few moments of his son’s childhood. Arla couldn’t blame him. Boba chafed at still being treated as a child when many of his peers were already considered adults by their clans. Soon, Jango was going to have to let his son hunt alone or Boba would force the issue.

Arla put the silk and the gems in the safe she’d hidden under a removable panel in the weapons locker by the kitchen door. There was a variety of small, easy to liquidate valuables both she and Jango couldn’t help but stash just in case. She counted them just to be sure they had enough to get a new ship and lay low for a few months. The corsuca gems were a nice little boost to their emergency funds.

Feeling inordinately fond of her pretty gamorrean of a brother, Arla closed the safe and replaced the panel. The rest of the house was dark and quiet with no sign of Jango. She stuck her head into Boba’s room and had to muffle a laugh.

Jango had dropped his armor on the rug next to his boots. He laid on top of the blankets, back against Boba’s headboard. Boba was drooling on his shoulder as Jango snored softly with an arm around his son. Arla closed the door before she distrubed them further.

As always, the sound of the feeder droid squealing like it was going to explode woke Arla. She staggered off the couch where she’d fallen asleep going over her crop production projections. Slamming into the window she yanked it open. “I am going to use you for target practice,  _ osikla chakaar _ !” Her roar quieted the squealing as the droid slowed down enough to reduce the noise from its servos.

Closing the window, Arla rubbed a hand over her eyes. Boba would still be sleeping for a few hours yet, and Jango was space-lagged enough to sleep in with him. She went to the kitchen and pulled the big pot of spicy stew out of the chiller and set it on the heating element to warm. If Jango wanted something fancier he could make it himself. Boba was perfectly happy to eat stew and fresh bread for all the five meals he inhaled every day. The boy grew like a well-watered weed and was going to be broader and taller than Jango before he was done.

Arla poured herself a cup of caf from the perpetually running machine before topping off the powder and water tanks so the carafe didn’t run dry. She eyed the chiller unit which needed to be cleaned out. That was a job for Boba. Though it reminded her she needed to check the chiller on the Slave I before she made a list for the Jango’s supply run in the afternoon.

Mug of caf clutched in one hand, Arla shuffled out of the house down to the landing pad. She walked up the Slave I’s loading ramp and punched her code into the keypad to unlock the loading bay doors. The ship beeped at her. Arla blinked and entered the code again. There was another warning beep. Rolling her eyes at her brother’s paranoia, Arla punched in his personal code. The loading bay doors slid part way open so she could enter the ship. Jango usually set the Slave I to low security when it was on the farm to make it easier to load supplies, but he’d left all the high security protocols in place the night before.

The lights in the cargo bay were partially dimmed which Arla’s tired eyes appreciated. She noticed that one of the transport cells had an inhabitant. It explained why Jango hadn’t disabled the high-level security protocols. Curious, she walked to the wall of the transparisteel cell. There was a human man inside wrapped in a blanket Arla was pretty sure was from Jango’s bunk. He would have been pretty if he didn’t look so strung out.

Arla took a sip of her caf observing the way the man trembled, red-veined blue eyes staring at nothing. Poor bastard was drying out. Jango must be expecting a mint if he’d given the kid a blanket. Skin and durarubber was easier to clean.

“Arla?” Jango called from the loading bay door, concerned.

“Here,” Arla called back to her little brother. “What’s the bounty on it?” she asked curiously as Jango came over to stand next to her. Jango didn’t respond which wasn’t a good sign. “ _ Jan’ika _ ?”

“He’s not a bounty. I’m just sobering him up.” Jango reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

Arla gave her brother a look. She understood his control issues. She really, really did. There was a reason she handled the money and the farm was in her name. “Take him to that facility in Sundari,  _ Jan’ika _ . Boba doesn’t need to see this. Not in his home.” Boba was no sheltered Core World scion. He’d seen worse than a fairly healthy spicehead coming down, but it was always different when it was in the place you were supposed to feel safe.

Jango cleared his throat. “I can’t exactly do that, Arla. They’ll run his gene sequence as part of admissions.”

“Is he  _ Haat Mando’ad _ ?” Arla asked trying hard not to let scorn color the words. Jango loved his adopted clan, imperfect as they were. Jaster Mereel seemed like he’d been a good man. All of Jango’s stories about him, even colored with hero-worship as they were, suggested that Mereel had been a good father and a good leader. Mereel had looked for Arla until the day of his death, long after even Jango had given up hope. He hadn’t had the luxury of being picky about which commandos swore themselves to him. She took a sip of her caf to cover the pang of distant grief for the man who wanted to be her second father.

“No. He’s a  _ jetii _ .”

Arla sprayed caf all over Jango as she choked on the liquid already in her throat. “ _ Me’ven?!? _ ”

Jango grimaced, wiping the caf off his face with his sleeve. “Stars, Arla, if I wanted caf I would have gotten myself a damn mug.”

“ _ Nyac _ !” Arla shouted pointing at him. “Explain,  _ Jan’ika _ ! If the Imperials find out we’re hiding a Jedi they’ll kill all of us. They’ll kill Boba! The  _ Mand’alor _ won’t protect us. Not over a  _ jetii _ .”

“If the Imperials find us, I’ll hand him over. They won’t execute us,  _ ori’vod _ . They’ll thank us.” He gestured at the man. “Do you recognize him?” Arla shook her head, biting back another tirade. “That is what’s left of General Obi-Wan Kenobi. High Jedi General of the Seventh Systems Army, lover of the false  _ Mand’alor _ Satine Kryze, and beloved teacher of the Consort.”

“ _ Manda bal tal _ ,  _ Jan’ika _ .” Arla stared. Horror rose like bile in the back of her throat. She loved her brother dearly no matter how they clashed. She also knew that, though Jango was more functional than her, he wasn’t any saner. Despite his fanatical devotion to Jaster Mereel and the ideals of the True Mandalorians, Jango’s nature, like Arla’s, was better suited to the very oldest ways from before the Dral’han. It wasn’t a person Jango had in that cell but a prize. An enemy general brought low and the lover of the woman who’d tried to crush the soul of their people.

Arla reluctantly looked back at Kenobi trying not to see how decorative some of the bruises on the man’s wrists and neck were. “ _ Vod _ , tell me this isn’t it what it looks like.” They were both sworn to the Super-Commando Codex as all recognized  _ ramikade _ now were under the rule of  _ Mand’alor _ Spar and his  _ riduur _ Fenn Shysa. If Jango had raped or tortured a prisoner, Arla was honor-bound to kill her brother. And she would kill him because Jango wouldn’t defend himself against her any more than he would Boba.

“Oh.” Jango realized suddenly what she was asking, his healthy, tanned face going starkly pale. “Are you asking?”

“I don’t want to,” Arla said. The caf sloshed sourly in her stomach. “But I can’t be a coward either. Was he willing, Jango?”

“He… wasn’t unwilling. There was no crime as Codex would define it.” Jango met her eyes flushing with embarrassment.

Arla gritted her teeth. “Are you planning on turning him in for the bounty or are you going to kill him?” Jango didn’t reply which meant he never intended either.

Arla tipped back her mug and gulped down the rest of her caf. “Right. I honestly don’t give a shit, Jango. I only care that Boba is safe and protected. So unless you want me to kill the  _ jetii _ myself to protect our clan, this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to spend the day with Boba. Then you’re going to tell your son he can go on a hunting trip with Ordo Skirata and his brothers like he’s been begging to for the last six months. I know you don’t like the clones, but Ordo is a good boy with a level-head on his shoulders. It’ll make both Kal Skirata and the  _ Mand’alor _ happy, which we’re going to need if you’re planning on keeping a  _ jetii _ pet.”

“That’ll keep Boba busy for a month or two. I’ll make the arrangements with  _ Ord’ika _ for Boba to comm both of us once every five days. Then you’re going to get on your ship and go somewhere else. Where I can know nothing about whatever you’re doing for at least a month. When you come back, that,” Arla gestured at Kenobi, “either needs to be an acceptable companion for the parent of the next chieftain of Clan Fett or you need to be alone.”

Jango was staring at her. “What?” Arla snapped. She wasn’t the one being moron here.

“Why?” Jango asked roughly. “You should order me to kill him and hand in the body for the bounty.”

Arla slumped, unable to hold onto her anger in face of her little brother’s confusion. “I’m not blind,  _ vod’ika _ . Boba’s growing up, and neither of us is capable of raising another child. You can’t stay on the homestead or Boba won’t have any clan left.” Jango snorted in agreement, his lip curling into a half smile. “You haven’t killed Kenobi for a reason. I really don’t want to know why, but if this is what you want then I’m only going to interfere if it affects Boba.”

Jango nodded sharply. “It won’t.”

“Good. Also you can restock your damn ship this time.” Arla gave Kenobi a last lingering glance. He was watching them curiously. “I’ll tell Boba to stay off the ship since you have a bounty in the cells. If you tell him he can go with the Skirata’s over breakfast he’ll be sweet as uj cake to stay out of trouble.”

“Fine, fine,” Jango grumbled. “I’ll tell him when he wakes up. Let Kal know I agreed.” He put his hand on her back, gently and protectively guiding her away from the Jedi’s line of sight. “I’ll feed the _jetii_ and come back inside.”

Arla rolled her eyes but submitted to her brother's fussing. She definitely needed another mug of caf.


	4. Chapter 4

Jango triple-checked the commcode Ordo had given him before he let Boba go with a kiss to the top of the head and reminder to listen to the older boys. Boba was ecstatic, practically climbing over Prudii Skirata in his eagerness to examine Ordo’s ship. Ordo, Prudii, and Mereel Skirata were intending to track down a group of smugglers who’d gotten on the wrong side of some hutts. It was a big job, over twenty individual contracts, but not particularly dangerous which made it a good choice for Boba’s first job without Jango. Kal Skirata was pleased as a gorged nexu about the boys spending time together. As was the  _ Mand’alor _ .

Kal had sent Boba the set of  _ beskar’gam _ he’d worn in his late teens, light, durasteel plate of good quality but intended to be outgrown with a simplified HUD control system for a novice to learn on. Spar and Shysa had sent Boba his own weapons case with a couple of decent blasters, some more unusual non-lethal options, and a very nice sniper rifle. The quality and expense of the gifts spoke of both Clan Skirata’s and the  _ Mand’alor _ ’s respect for Clan Fett. Jango was a little startled. He’d honestly expected empty gestures just valuable enough not to be insulting.

The gift Jango had given to aid his son’s first official hunt was less expensive but more valuable. Spar had let Jango retrieve both his own beskar’gam, lost at Galidraan and kept as a trophy by Clan Vizla, and Jaster’s beskar’gam, which had been on display in Sundari as part of a New Mandalorian propaganda exhibit, after Jango and Arla had sworn themselves to the new  _ Mand’alor _ . Boba wore Jaster’s  _ buy’ce _ .

Jango had cleaned, repaired, and repainted the helmet as well as replacing the visor electronics with a more modern unit. It looked right on Boba in a way Jango’s own armor never had. Arla was already putting aside funds to have Jaster’s beskar plates reforged to fit Boba when the time came. Boba would have armor fit for the  _ Mand’alor _ , and Jango was starting to suspect it would be appropriate if the noises Shysa had made about Boba getting to know his  _ ori’vod _ Spar while dropping off Boba’s gift were any indication.

“We’ll take care of our  _ vod’ika _ , Fett,” Mereel Skirata promised as he accepted the, very large, box of snacks that was Arla's contribution to their trip. 

“Bring him back,” Jango ordered gruffly, ignoring the empty throb rattling through his chest. Boba was a bright, resourceful kid. He’d proven it again and again. But this was the first time Jango or Arla wouldn’t be within any easy speeder drive if he needed backup. “ _ K’oyacyi _ ,  _ Mer’ika _ .”

“Oh that we can manage no problem,” Mereel said with a fierce grin. He nodded politely to Arla before hauling the crate of food up the ramp after his brothers.

Jango found himself pulling just a little against his sister’s restraining hand on his shoulder as the cargo bay doors closed behind Mereel. The ship’s engines rumbled to life then settled into steady growl. The  _ Aay’han _ rose in the air, taking Jango’s son away from him. Arla clenched her other hand around Jango’s arm to hold herself back as well. “ _ Udesii, vod’ika _ ,” Arla said, mouth pressed right to his ear to be heard over the noise of the ship. “You’ve taught him well.”

It always hurt to leave Boba. Jango had never been happier than the day Boba was old enough to go on hunts him. Standing calmly while Boba was the one leaving Jango behind was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

The  _ Aay’han _ left atmo in a graceful, white and red arc. Jango watched until it disappeared from view with Arla hugging him from behind. “He’ll come back to us,” his sister said fiercely. “You can hold onto that,  _ Jan’ika _ . No Fett dies easy. We’re proof of that.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,  _ ori’vod _ ,” Jango replied watching the point in the sky where the ship had vanished. Fetts didn’t die easy, but they didn’t live easy either. Arla stepped around to rest her forehead against his. She knew what he was thinking, and he knew she agreed even if she’d never said it aloud.

They stood together for too long. Until the feeder droid which handled the livestock started making the unholy noise which meant it was mealtime for the banthas. Arla’s nostrils flared in rage, the same way their father’s used to when the off-brand dishcleaner broke down for the third time that week. “Have fun,” Jango said before he could get recruited into Arla’s continuing efforts to avoid replacing the droid with a newer unit. Their father had refused to replace the dishcleaner too.

“Oya,  _ Jan’ika _ ,” Arla sighed seeing his resolve. “I’ll see you in a month.”

The place Jango chose was a small, forested moon that had no name, just the number the mining company that had accidentally sterilized it used on their tax forms. There had been some kind of initiative from a Core world to rebuild the planet’s ecosystem. However, the money had run out before they’d established more than a basic boreal forest system with limited insect life and even more limited fauna. Jango had stumbled across it by accident when Boba had gotten space-sick as a toddler.

The weather was surprisingly temperate year round on the equator, and a few strategically placed jammers easily concealed the Slave I’s presence from all but the most powerful scanners. It was beautiful, secure, and most importantly private while still being able to access the holonet.

Jango landed the ship in the clearing he used to bring Boba to when they went camping. Up the hill, behind a small waterfall, was a large, dry cave that was ideal for sleeping comfortably. By some fluke of the geothermal gradient affecting the artisanal spring that was the source, the waterfall was always lukewarm even in the winter. Fully armored and armed, Jango scouted the area confirming that various traps and sensors he’d left behind were still in place and the supplies he’d left in the cave were undisturbed. Everything was as he’d left it over a year ago. Then he unloaded the supplies he’d need for the next month.

Confident that his temporary home was secured, Jango returned to the ship. He took the hydrospray gun and one of the vials he’d purchased during his stopover on Ord Mantell after picking up the supplies he’d ordered off the holonet from a package drop. Loading the vial into the gun, he went over to the cell where his Jedi was sleeping. He’d been doing a far bit of that since the spice had worked its way out of his system. Trying to pay off a sleep doubt that went back to the war.

Jango opened the cell door and made sure to step lightly as he entered. Kneeling down, he pressed the hydrospray to Jedi’s upper arm and pulled the trigger. There was a hiss as the drug, marketed as an anti-anxiety medication for reptilian species, emptied from the vial. This particular compound had a secondary effect not widely known outside those very few bounty hunters who hunted Jedi and their ilk. Most suppression collars would cause a powerful Force-user to stroke-out after a few weeks of use. Jango wasn’t willing to risk his Jedi and had gone for the gentler pharmaceutical solution. It was riskier since it didn’t fully stop a Jedi from using the Force just severely restricted their abilities, but Jango was confident that he could handle his Jedi.

The sting of the hydrospray caused his Jedi to stir. “Huh?”

“Morning,  _ jetii _ ,” Jango murmured, setting the hyrdospray gun to the side and ruffling the short, red hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I should have gotten the ident code of the speeder that ran me over.” His Jedi started to stretch then froze.

Jango shushed him. “It’s okay. I gave you something to keep you from causing trouble once you get out of range of the psychic dampers. I’ve used it before. It should be more comfortable than a suppressor.”

“It is that,” his Jedi agreed after a moment, but he was doing a poor job of concealing his panic.

“ _ Udesii, ner’jetii _ .” Jango put a hand on the back of his Jedi’s neck squeezing firmly to comfort him. “It’s just for now.”

His Jedi shuddered, pushing up into the touch. “Well, the dampers explain why I don’t have a psychic migraine, just a hangover. Where am I?”

“This place doesn’t have a name, just a reference number and coordinates.” Jango slid his hand down tugging at the blanket until his Jedi let it go. The bacta gel had done its job leaving only the shadow of bruises on the milky, freckled splattered skin. Jango rubbed his fingers across his Jedi’s chest admiring the flush left behind by the rough material. He pinched one small, pink nipple hard enough to draw a gasp.

“On your back,” Jango ordered, ignoring the heat stirring in his own belly.

His Jedi obediently dropped the blanket and settled back onto it. “Can I ask…”

Jango cut him off with a backhand to the face. He pulled the blow significantly, barely leaving a mark despite the durasteel plate on the back of his gauntlet. “ _ Ne'johaa _ . You know that one I assume.” Mouth obediently shut and pretty, blue eyes wide, his Jedi nodded. “Good. I’ll do this in Basic so there’s no confusion. Your accent might as well scream ‘I used to be Jedi’. So you’re going to keep your mouth shut, unless you’re speaking  _ Mando’a _ . Until you sound less like I should be handing you over to the nearest Imperial garrison. When you do talk, think before you open your  _ paklalatla _ mouth. The words I need from you are ‘yes’, ‘please’, ‘no’, and ‘stop’. Do you know those? Tell me.”

“ _‘Lek_ , _gedet'ye_ , _nyac_ , _bal_ _gev_.” His Jedi lingered on the last word hesitantly. He darted a nervous glance at Jango’s eyes, hidden behind the visor of his helmet.

Jango ignored him. His Jedi would figure out why he needed the last one eventually, but Jango wasn’t going to give him the answer. “ _ Jate _ . Once we leave the ship, you speak  _ Mando’a _ . If you speak Basic, I’ll hurt you. Not punish, hurt. You understand the difference?”

His Jedi was wide-eyed but obediently replied, “ _ ‘lek _ .”

“I don’t want to hurt you,  _ jetii _ .” Jango ran his hand fondly over the red fuzz of hair. “So be as sweet as you were when we had breakfast together, and we’ll be just fine.” He trailed his fingers down his Jedi’s temple until the pads of his index and middle finger were resting on the plush lower lip. There was just a moment when the Jedi hesitated. Jango sighed started to move his fingers away when the Jedi leaned forward and delicately took them into his mouth. “See, sweet as uj.”

Jango gently retrieved his fingers and gripped the Jedi’s chin, rubbing his thumb across his Jedi’s mouth to clean it. The only beings still living Jango could remember kissing were his son and his sister. His agemates, the friends and companions who’d been his allies, officers, and bedmates, had all died at Galidraan. The beings he’d taken to bed after he’d freed himself weren’t the kind you lingered over kisses with.

The thought struck him suddenly. “Come on. I’ve got boots for you.” Jango left his Jedi the blanket since he didn’t feel like giving him clothes yet, and the weather outside was better described as temperate than warm. Still, his Jedi paused on the ramp of the Slave I, blinking in the golden sunlight. He tipped his face up towards the turquoise sky with a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as the brassy undertone of his red hair shown through.

In smooth  _ Mando’a _ with an accent that was more Sundari than anything else, he said, “It’s beautiful here.”

Jango smiled, unable to help himself. His Jedi sounded pleasantly surprised like it was a gift not just a little backwater moon. In the same language he replied, “There’s more. Come with me.”

Holding the blanket closed over his chest, the Jedi took Jango’s proffered hand. Jango led him down the path worn into the moss from the tread of boots to their campsite. He took his Jedi’s blanket and boots and urged him under the waterfall to wash off the last of the sweet-sour smell of detox sweat. Settling himself on one of the camp stools, Jango folded the blanket and set it in front of the stool. Then he went over to the armor rack he’d cobbled together with Boba as a project between hunts back when he was looking for any excuse to avoid returning to Kamino. He took off his helmet and gauntlets and set them on the rack. After a moment’s consideration, he left the rest of his  _ beskar’gam _ on.

Throwing some dehydrated rations into the pot on the small cooking stove with some water from his canteen, Jango took the time to check the water filtration unit was pumping properly before settling on the camp stool to watch his Jedi.

Lukewarm ran over pale skin that looked creamy in the natural light. His Jedi cupped water with his hands where the falling stream didn’t reach. The crystalline droplets glistened in the sunlight as his Jedi scrubbed with his knuckles as eager as Jango to rid himself of the last traces of the poison he’d been marinating himself in. When he stepped out of the water, he scraped his hands down his limbs and chest to dry himself. His wet hair was darker almost the color of fresh blood.

“Come here,” Jango ordered when his Jedi finished by ruffling his wet hair. He held out a hand as the man padded over to him. Jango guided his Jedi down until he was kneeling on the pad of blankets between Jango’s knees. Cradling the handsome face between his palms, Jango rubbed his thumb over the edge of one too prominent cheekbone fondly. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to his Jedi’s. His Jedi kissed back softly, careful of his still bruised mouth.

Jango let himself luxuriate in the sensation of trading gentle kisses with no intent except enjoying how it made his lips tingle. When he pulled back to catch his breath, his Jedi licked at his lips nervously. “Shh,” Jango murmured, moving his hand so he could stroke his Jedi’s short hair. “You can relax,  _ jet’ika _ . If I want something else, I’ll tell you. Just sit there and look pretty for me right now.” The  _ Mando’a _ came more easily to his tongue than basic ever had, and his Jedi understood the words. Then he let himself touch.

His Jedi had scares to rival Jango’s own. Most were ropey and keloided showing they’d healed on the move without the aid of bacta. There were some smooth patches similar to the skin around them but hairless and smoother, remnants of injuries severe enough to require a bacta tank. None of his Jedi’s fingers was straight, and his toes and feet were even worse. Jango chuckled as he ran his thumbs down either side of his Jedi’s nose which, somehow, had no sign of past breakage. “I think you’ve lived harder than I have,  _ jet’ika _ .” He touched the strange, raised scarring just visible under his Jedi’s newly short hair. It made a ring from just above his forehead, paralleling his hairline before continuing down behind his ears and under his jaw.

His Jedi flinched out of Jango’s grip. His hand was raised part way to push before he remembered himself. Jango slapped him, open palmed and just hard enough to turn his head. “That’s twice today,” Jango warned softly. “Did I tell you to move? You can speak.”

“ _ Nyac _ .” His Jedi stilled, eyes down and chin lowered submissively. The droop annoyed Jango.

Jango sighed. “If you can’t remember your place,  _ jetii _ , I’m going to have to remind you.” He stood up, ignoring his Jedi’s wide eyes, and picked through the supplies he’d brought from the ship. He lifted out the durasteel cuffs and the wide, heavy leatheris collar that had come with the other supplies. His Jedi wasn’t able to completely muffle his sharp inhale of excitement. Hiding his smile, Jango turned back to the kneeling Jedi. “This should help. Lift your chin.”

The collar was wide enough it covered his Jedi’s entire neck coming to a point at the front and tipped with durasteel. If his Jedi did manage to drop his chin despite the high top lip of the collar, the durasteel point would dig painfully into his chest. That would help remedy the defeated slump which his Jedi too often defaulted to.

There was a ring half-way up the collar in the perfect position to clip the chain of the cuffs. Jango stretched out the Jedi’s arms for him before putting on the cuffs, working the muscles so they wouldn’t cramp too soon. Then he locked his Jedi’s wrists into place and clipped the chain to the ring of the collar. It pulled his Jedi’s hands up near his face, similar to the belt Jango had improvised with but more secure. He liked seeing his Jedi’s arms bent up in front of him like he was about to rest his chin on his fists. There was something charming about the position that made it distinct from the times Jango restrained his merchandise.

“That’s better.” Jango ran careful fingers around the bottom edge of the collar to check how much it dug in with the added weight of cuffs. “Stand up.” He kept his hands under his Jedi’s elbows to keep the taller man steady. “Your knees can’t be in much better shape than mine,” he said conversationally as he led his Jedi over to the low cot he slept on. “So I’m going to give you a choice. You can sit on the bed and suck me, or you can lay on the floor while I fuck you.”

Unsurprisingly, his Jedi chose the bed which would keep him warmer than the cold, smooth stone. Jango pulled the rubber covered ring and attached straps out of the pouch he’d slipped it into while retrieving the collar and cuffs. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, checking the straps were in order. His Jedi hesitated only parting his lips slightly. Just enough Jango couldn’t accuse him of keeping his mouth shut. “This is to help you,” Jango informed him calmly. “You seemed eager to choke on my cock, I wanted to indulge you. But you’re not well trained enough I trust you not to fuck up and bite me.” Displaying the ring gag, a comfortable model with plenty of soft rubber and padding, Jango continued, “This way you can’t mess up. I’d thought you’d like that.”

Still uncertain, his Jedi opened his mouth wider and let Jango slip the rubber-covered ring behind his teeth. Jango buckled the straps in place tight enough to be secure but not painfully so. “There. Stars, you’re a pretty thing when you want cock.” His Jedi’s tongue, pink, wet, and so vulnerably exposed, traced the ring while Jango watched. He licked his own lips, reaching for the fasteners on his groin plate.

His Jedi’s mouth was just as hot and soft as Jango remembered. If there was none of that sweet suction from the impromptu breakfast they’d shared, Jango’s ability to sheath himself to the hilt without risking an inopportune cough and snap made up for it. He put his hands on the back of his Jedi’s head to keep him still, thinking wistfully of the long hair he’d had to cut, and closed his eyes.

There was a wet, pathetic noise as he shifted his stance. He cut it off by pushing deeper until he felt the fluttery press of his Jedi’s throat. The little bastard didn’t seem to have a gag reflex to speak of. Holding his Jedi in place with one hand, Jango rubbed his short fuzz of hair with the other as he breathed hard through his nose to keep himself under control. He kept his thrusts short just teasing the tight heat of his Jedi’s throat. When there was a sudden clenching and a buck, Jango slammed forward holding his Jedi’s face to his stomach. A moan slipped out as his Jedi frantically swallowed around the cock choking him, reflexively trying to clear his airway. Jango could feel the ring moving just slightly as teeth dug into it. Nails scraped against his flightsuit occasionally catching on a sliver of bare skin where the fabric gaped where Jango had undone only enough of the closures to get his cock out.

Jango considered waiting until his Jedi passed out, but that was risky this far from a medic Jango could trust. Reluctantly he pulled back far enough the head of his cock rested his Jedi’s writhing tongue. His Jedi gasped in air and coughed, struggling to close his jaw and swallow properly. The movement felt good, and the view of the tears leaking from the corners of frantic blue eyes wasn’t bad either. Jango smoothed a thumb along a tear track and wiped the water away. “Shh. Deep breath.” His Jedi’s eyes went even wider.

Every time Jango forced his head down, his Jedi jerked and shivered. At first Jango thought it was in response to having his air cut off, but then he noticed the soft, pink head jutting up from between his Jedi’s pale thighs when he pulled back to let the other man breathe. “Ah, sweetheart, do you like it when I choke you?” Jango stroked his Jedi’s hair in praise. “Such a good boy.”

Stepping back, Jango let his cock fall out of his Jedi’s mouth. A quiet, despairing whine from his Jedi made him hum soothing. “Come on. Put that pert ass of yours on the edge of the mattress.” His Jedi wiggled forward at Jango’s urging. Spit was trickling down his prettily flushed face since the gag made it hard to swallow. Careful of bare toes, Jango used his booted foot to gently urge his Jedi to spread his legs. Then he shuffled forward pressing the plate over his knee to his Jedi’s hard cock. “There you go, sweetheart. Something to rub yourself against while I finish up with your mouth.” The pink flush on his Jedi’s cheeks darkened to red.

Jango slid his cock back into his Jedi’s mouth and started rolling his hips like he was working himself with a toy. His Jedi could handle it, was enjoying it from the way he moaned around the intrusion. As Jango held the Jedi’s head still, his Jedi hips were moving, trying to rub his cock against Jango’s armor. Though Jango had purposely set his leg far enough back there was no way to get satisfying pressure from the durasteel plate.

Watching his Jedi struggle to rub himself against Jango’s leg only to ram Jango’s cock further down his own throat was enough to push Jango over the edge. He ended up hunched over his Jedi running his hands over shaking shoulders as he emptied himself down the raw throat. “Stars, you’re a pretty thing. Easy now.” Jango shuddered as his Jedi tongued at his softening cock whining when Jango pushed his head back. “Shh, easy, sweetheart.”

Shakily, Jango groped around and found the edge of a towel which he used to clean the mess off his Jedi’s mouth as best he could. The collar kept his Jedi from ducking in embarrassment as Jango smiled down at him. “You did beautifully, sweetheart,” Jango assured him, settling stiffly on the edge of the mattress himself since his knees were starting to shake. “Here. Get my hand wet.”

Jango pressed his palm over his Jedi’s gagged mouth nodding in approval when he felt the wet drag of a tongue. “Thank you sweetheart.” He spit into his hand as well to make sure there was enough lubricant before he wrapped his hand around his Jedi’s cock. It was a rough and ready handjob, poorly coordinated and probably a bit uncomfortable. Especially when Jango made sure to pull his hand away right as his Jedi gasped and clenched his abs, leaving his cock to twitch pathetically, desperate for more touch, while pearly fluid splattered the floor.

The Jedi looked down at the mess awkwardly unable to lower his chin. Then his eyes welled over with a raw noise made wordless by the gag still holding his teeth open. Jango hauled the Jedi into his lap letting him press his face to rough fabric gorget around Jango’s neck. “Shh. Don’t cry. That's a mess we can clean up. Hush now.” He rocked his Jedi slowly hushing and murmuring nonsense.

When the whining noises settled into softer gasps, Jango unbuckled the gag and gently removed the ring from between his Jedi’s clenched teeth. “Don’t speak, sweetheart. Your head is still floating. Breathe for me.” There was a ragged, wet gasp followed by a second steadier inhale. “Good, sweetheart. You’re doing beautifully. Only one last thing I need from you.” His Jedi stared up at him with tear-reddened eyes. “You made a mess of my floor. I want you to clean it up with your tongue.”

His Jedi shuddered but obediently wiggled out of his lap to kneel on the floor. Since his hands were still bound at his neck, he had to shuffle over to the streaks of wetness on his knees. Then he settled back on his heels before very careful bending down until he could press his hands against the floor. With his hands chained in place, it looked like a genuflection. Jango licked his lips, cupping himself regretfully, as he watched his Jedi delicately lap up the smears of his own spend off the smooth, gray stone, leaving slightly darker patches behind.

When the last splatter was gone, Jango tugged his Jedi over to kneel between his legs. He unhooked and removed the cuffs but left the collar for the moment. Taking his Jedi’s wrists one at a time, Jango manipulated and rubbed the joint checking for damage. There was some minor bruising but not enough to warrant bacta.

“Get up on the bed for now. I’m going to put together your pallet.” Jango quickly assembled a second camp bed against the wall opposite his own and put a stack of fresh blankets on. He also double-checked the bolts embedded in the wall above the bed that had once held a small shelf for Boba’s holobooks. Now it was the attachment point for a long, reinforced cable with a padded collar on the end. The collar closed with a simple biolock.

His Jedi was limp and hazy-eyed when Jango put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s put you to bed.” Jango helped his Jedi over to the other bed, propping him against the wall for a desultory wipe-down with damp cleaning wipes. Then Jango exchanged the heavy posture collar for the much gentler padded collar, locking it in place with his thumb. The cable was long enough for his Jedi to reach the disposable chemical fresher and the tap for the water filtration unit, but it was two meters too short to reach the area Jango had put his own bed and armor rack.

Once his Jedi had been tucked in, Jango went to the armor rack and finished removing the rest of his plate and his weapons. He stripped off his flightsuit as well and used the damp cleaning wipes on himself before changing into a soft shirt and loose, draw-tie pants. The rations he’d left to heat and hydrate had turned into a simple tiingilar, spicy stew. With a handful of plain ration crackers, it would make a solid latemeal.

Jango filled the dip on the beaten metal camp tray with stew then added the crackers and a hydration pack plus a pouch of filtered water. He selected a bent spoon from the limited utensils and carried his prize over to his Jedi. “Hey sweetheart,” he murmured sitting on the edge of the bed, “time to eat. It’s not as good as what I could feed you at Arla’s, but I’ll go hunting tomorrow. You need to put some weight on. We can do that here.”

His Jedi stirred, propping himself on the two pillows Jango had brought him. He started to reach for the pouch of water then froze. “ _ Nyac _ ?” he asked Jango.

“No,” Jango agreed. “I’ll take care of you.” Then he lifted the pouch of water off the tray and pressed the valve to his Jedi’s abused mouth. “Slowly. Just a few sips. You need to drink the whole hydration pack.”

Jango fed his Jedi the stew and crackers bite by bite alternating sips from the water pouch and hydration pack between spoonfuls of food. It was different than watching his Jedi suck sticky pieces of sweet fruit from his fingers, but Jango still felt warm as he fed his Jedi heavy, wholesome stew. It was softer and matched the ache in his bones. He was older than Jaster and soon, very soon, Boba would be older than Jango had been when Jaster died.

His Jedi put a hand on Jango’s knee. In his perfect, Sundari accented Mando’a, he said, “My name is Ben.”

Running his knuckles across a high cheekbone, Jango leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his Jedi’s lips. It burned with the spices from the stew like a real  _ Mando’ad’s _ might. Except no  _ Mando’ade _ would have Jango Fett, who should have died with his soldiers and his honor. He could have friends, even companions, but to say  _ riduurok _ was to share everything. No  _ Mando’ade _ worth the title wanted to take on the burden of Jango’s disgrace.

“You should call me Jango, Ben.” Jango cupped his Jedi’s smooth cheek. “That’s who we are now.” He kissed Ben again before taking the tray and utensils to be rinsed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really, really dark and violent and painful. So... yeah. (See: Dead Dove Do Not Eat)

Jango was whistling as he made his way back to camp. He had a brace of tooka-sized herbivores slung over his shoulder. The spoils of his afternoon hunt would go well with the block of dry, packed mixed grains and vegetables he’d left boiling. His Ben preferred vegetable rations, but he hadn’t yet turned up his nose one of Jango’s kills roasted and coated in chili oil and spices.

Slinging the carcasses up on the small frame set up beside the Slave I, so the smell of blood and offal wouldn’t draw any predators closer to camp, Jango pulled out the knife from his boot and started skinning and dressing latemeal. They’d take a few hours to finish cooking. It gave Jango plenty of time to coax Ben away from his holonovel to go for a swim. Two days ago, Ben had let Jango fuck him from behind while they laid on a sunwarmed boulder to dry off. Ben had a black mark on the back of his neck from Jango’s bite. He’d come only seconds after Jango sank his teeth into the soft skin.

Jango breathed out as his cock shifted uncomfortably against his armor. Hopefully, Ben would be amenable to repeat performance. If not, Jango would settle for a sloppy makeout session and mutual handjobs while they enjoyed the beautifully warm weather. Either way, they wouldn’t need a spray-on barrier. Jango had finally gotten the results back from the blood and saliva samples he’d left at a discrete clinic on Ord Mantell.

By some miracle of the stars or the Jedi’s Force, Ben was clean. Jango’s own results had also come back clear. So there was no reason to restrict himself by whether or not he had one of the small cans within easy reach.

Buoyed by the cheerful thought, Jango finished rinsing off the dressed carcasesses, his knife, and his gauntlets using the hose from the Slave I. With a carcass in each hand to keep them clean, he made his way up the path behind the waterfall.

In cheerful  _ Mando’a _ , he called, “I’m back with latemeal.” The camp was tidied, and Ben was nowhere in sight. Jango wasn’t particularly worried. Ben had wanted to put a few loads of laundry through the sonic cleaner on the Slave I. The pile of folded blankets on Jango’s bed and the fact Ben’s was stripped was a fairly obvious indication of where Ben had gone.

Jango prepped the carcesses and slid them into the heating unit to roast. Lifting the lid of the pot onto top the unit he checked the grains and vegetables were rehydrating as expected. Latemeal sorted, he moved on to his daily check of the water filtration unit and associated plumbing.

Ben was still gone when Jango finished. Jango was starting to get nervous. Ben hadn’t shown any indications he wanted to leave, but if he did decide to do a runner, and Jango wasn’t the one to catch him, there would be trouble. The Empress’s bounty on Kenobi was doubled if he was delievered alive, and any other bounty hunter in the galaxy, who had the good sense not to fuck the Consort’s former teacher, would bring him in breathing. The wrong words, or the truth, in the Consort’s ear and all of Clan Fett was dead, publicly and messily.

If the sonic cleaner was acting up then Ben would be trying to fix it. Jango breathed deeply to focus himself and headed back down towards the Slave I to check on him.

Ben wasn’t on the Slave I, and his blankets were finished, sitting in the sonic cleaning unit. He wasn’t in camp. Jango gritted his teeth and switched on the scanning suite he used for tracking. His heart nearly stopped. Instead of finding signs of his Jedi trying to run, there were animal tracks mixed in with Ben’s tracks. Both sets headed off into the forest with the entry marked by broken branches. All Ben had was his boots and blanket. Jango hadn’t left him any weapons because there weren’t supposed to be any aggressive fauna on this moon. All of his scanning equipment showed no predators large enough to be a danger to a human. But his equipment only recorded the area around camp.

If there was a large predator, Ben’s abilities were still partially suppressed. He was vulnerable. When Jango found Ben, he was never dosing him with a suppressant again. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Jango jumped down a small ravine following the tracks. He breathed out when he saw the animal tracks split away, leaving the ravine. A few meters further, Ben, with a pillow case slung over his shoulder and blanket wrapped around his hips like a sarong, was crouched down examining a flowering bush. “Ben?” Jango demanded, “are you hurt?”

“Hmm.” Ben looked up speaking in  _ Mando’a _ . “No, I’m fine, but this is the fourth example I’ve seen of hybridization across generna...” His voice trailed off when he saw Jango. “Oh shit.”

Swallowing down a tangle of furious words, Jango clenched his fists. “Get up.”

Ben scrambled to his feet, wincing when he tried to duck his chin and ran up against his posture collar. Jango kept it on him unless they were relaxing, eating, or in the water. It had helped with Ben’s habit of trying to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, Jango.”

“You will be,” Jango promised coldly. “Walk back to camp.” He walked behind his Jedi breathing steadily to get a handle on the black rage burning in the back of his throat. His temper had never done him any favors and giving it free rein wouldn’t do anything but scare his Jedi. His Jedi needed a scare but not to be fearful of him. Jango needed a moment to collect himself and think.

They made their way back to camp in silence. Once they were safely in the cave, Jango jerked the blanket from his Jedi’s hips and tossed it to the side. “Take off your boots.” While Ben knelt to comply, Jango looked around their camp trying to think beyond tying him to a bed and striping his ass bloody until Ben swore never to wander off again.

Jango’s eyes landed on his empty armor rack. It was bolted to the rock floor and wall. That would do nicely. Jango had traced Ben’s scars with his tongue. Taking a belt or even a switch to his ass wasn’t going to get the message across. “Stay down,” Jango ordered, moving to stand in front of Ben. He put his boot on the thigh of Ben’s bent leg and leaned his weight on it to keep Ben on his knees. “Tell me why I’m angry.”

Ben swallowed hard, eyes down and chin up since his collar wouldn’t let him hide. “Because when you agreed to leave me off leash, I told you I would only go between camp and the ship until you returned.”

“Did you stick to the contract?” Jango asked because he didn’t want any confusion.

“No.”

Jango nodded in satisfaction at the simple answer. “If you wanted to explore, we could have done it together. I wasn’t sure if you’d run or if something had dragged you off. Look at me, my Ben.” Ben raised his eyes reluctantly from the floor to look up at Jango’s visor. “You fucked up so I’m going to punish you now. That means it doesn’t matter how loud you scream, if you beg, if you say ‘no’. I’m not going to slow down, and I’m not going to stop.” Ben shuddered and almost looked away before he caught himself. Jango nodded slightly to show his approval. “But you’re still mine. I’d shoot a disobedient Jedi dog. I’m just going to make my mutt cry.” He pet Ben’s hair in reassurance. “Crawl over my armor rack and wait for me.”

Lifting his boot away, Jango watched as Ben went to all four and obediently crawled over to crouch in front of the rack. Taking another breath, Jango went over to supply crates and took out what he needed to set on his bed. For some reason, he hadn’t thought to bring binders beyond the duratsteel cuffs Ben loved. It was an annoyance he could have done without, but he could improvise.

Jango cut two short lengths of the durasteel cable. He grabbed a damp towel and the macrofuser from the toolbox under his bed. Kneeling down next to Ben, Jango handed him the first length of cable. “Put that around your ankle and hold the ends together. Ben hissed in a breath when he realized what Jango intended. As Jango watched, he still grimly complied with the order making a loop with cable around his ankle large enough it wouldn’t constrict blood flow but too small to slip off.

Folding the towel to appropriate width, Jango tapped Ben’s fingers to get them out of the way. Then he put the towel down as a barrier between Ben’s skin and the ends of the cable. “Close your eyes and turn your head away.” Ben complied, and Jango welded the ends of the cable to make a solid loop of braided durasteel around Ben’s ankle. When the weld cooled, Jango removed the towel and put it on Ben’s other ankle. He welded the second loop shut.

Jango examined his work to make sure there were no edges sharp enough to cut. The cable itself was thick as two of Jango’s fingers and covered in a thick layer of durarubber. He’d have to watch out for constricted blood flow, but it would only bruise not cut. When Jango picked up the duratsteel cuffs, Ben already had his hands up by his throat. Jango locked his hands in their usual place. Then he attached clips to each of the ankle cuffs he’d just made.

Ben let out a bitten-off cry of surprise when Jango grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him forward. He wrenched Ben’s leg up so he could attach the clip on Ben’s ankle to the pole on one side of the rack, above a high crossbar. Jango grabbed Ben’s other leg and secured it the same way to the opposite bar. Ben’s shoulders and head were still on the floor, but the rest of him was hanging by his ankles. His legs were spread apart just a hair short of worryingly uncomfortable leaving his cock, balls, and part of his ass in easy reach.

As Jango watched, Ben flexed his knees rocking further back onto his shoulders to test the security of the position. The rack didn’t even make a noise. The position of the rack meant Jango wouldn’t be able to fuck his Jedi, but that was okay. Ben liked Jango’s cock too much for it to be an effective punishment. Jango picked up the small, soft rubber toy he’d meant as a pleasant surprise. It’d serve another purpose now in making this less of a chore for Jango.

“Get it wet,” Jango ordered shoving the toy into his Jedi’s mouth. It was thin and slightly hooked with a small bulb on the end and flared base to keep it in place. The bulb was half silvery metal on top and with the bottom half made of the same soft, black rubber as the rest of the toy. A moment later, Jango yanked it out of Ben’s mouth still trailing a string of spit. He pulled one of Ben’s ass cheeks further apart for a better view and shoved the toy into Ben’s unprepared hole.

Ben bucked, shouting wordlessly. Jango ignored his Jedi struggling against the pain as he got the toy properly seated with the bulb against the prostate. He’d spent enough time fingering Ben he had a good idea of the correct position even with the new angle. Once it was seated, Jango tapped it twice to turn it on. “I’m doing you a favor because you apologized without me having to ask. Don’t worry about coming,” he told Ben absently as he adjusted the settings. “You won’t be able to stop yourself.”

“Jango.” Ben’s voice was already shaky. Jango hummed content with the toy’s vibrations. There would also be the very occasional shock delivered directly to the prostate for an instant orgasm. Something Ben wouldn’t be getting a warning about. “Could you please put the ring in my mouth?”

Jango paused not expecting that to be Ben’s request. “Why?”

“I don’t want to speak out of turn,” Ben admitted looking up at Jango nervously.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jango sighed, some of the cold, black ice sitting heavy in his stomach melting away, “of course.” He retrieved Ben’s ring gag and secured it. Pulling the pillow of his own bed, Jango tucked it under Ben’s head to keep the buckle of the gag from digging in. “I’m going to leave you here for no more than ten minutes while I step outside. Count if you need to.” Ben whined softly in protest trying to turn his head to watch Jango walk away.

Jango walked down to the bottom of the path where there was a small copse of young, smooth barked trees with straight, narrow, springy branches. Using his knife, he cut several branches a little shorter than his arm, choosing a variety of diameters. He only really needed one and a backup, but he didn’t want to leave Ben alone any longer than he had to. Taking his armful of sticks back up to camp, Jango made sure Ben saw him set them on the top shelf of the armor rack.

Then Jango removed his armor and flight suit, setting them on his bed since the rack was already in use. He stripped all the way to the skin. He was going to end up sweating and naked made for easier cleanup.

Jango stood over Ben, straddling him, where the other man laid on the floor, making sure his Jedi could see what he was doing. Picking up the most promising looking branch, about half the width of his index finger, Jango whipped himself across the inside of his forearm with it and examined the resulting welt. Nodding in satisfaction, he ran the stick through his clenched fist to make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises. Ben moaned softly. His cock was red, hard, and dripping down his stomach and chest. From the amount of fluid, Jango guessed he’d already finished at least once. That was good. The endorphins would help keep Ben from passing out.

“Don’t bother counting,” he warned Ben. “There’s not a set number I’m going for. I’ll stop when I think you’ve learned your lesson.” Then he brought his makeshift can down hard against the inside of Ben’s right thigh. Ben only hissed which wasn’t unexpected. It would take more than a single stroke to bother Jango too. With no build up and no pause, Jango laid the next welt just above the first, closer to Ben’s bare cock and balls. Followed by the next.

Ben didn’t scream until the first strike Jango laid across his balls on his way to the opposite thigh. He tried to close his legs, ribs knocking into Jango’s ankles as he struggled. Jango reprimanded him with a series of hits across his still hard cock and lower stomach. He wasn’t pulling his blows like he usually would when striking a partner’s genitals. It hurt, and there were pink and red welts forming on the tender flesh within seconds. Ben was screaming and trying to twist out of the way, but Jango secured him easily enough with a foot on his chest. The toy buzzing against Ben’s prostate kept him hard even as Jango flicked the head of his cock with the tip of the cane.

Jango caned the inside of both Ben’s thighs until there was a ladder of welts from the crease of Ben’s groin to his knee. Then he went back down each thigh angling the thin cane differently so it would hit across the welts already there. When Ben’s breathing shifted like he was finding the flow of the beating, Jango would change to striking his cock and balls, even dealing with the awkward angle to lay strokes across Ben’s hole and base of the toy. Blood started beading up from some of the marks on the third pass.

When there wasn’t a square centimeter of skin that wasn’t red, purple, or bloody, Jango started to slow down. He was still breathing easily. The long, daily hikes in full armor as he hunted had been good for him, but there was a sheen on sweat on his face, shoulders, and chest. He was also achingly hard even though he’d purposely avoided looking down to see how gorgeous his Jedi was when he suffered. Ben had stilled to limp, weeping, exhaustion back when there’d still been some pale skin visible on his cock.

Tapping the wet, reddened head of Ben’s cock with his finger, Jango sighed when it twitched. “Still works then. That’s good at least.” He set the now distinctly curved switch to the side, turned off the toy, and knelt down next to Ben.

Tears were trickling down Ben’s temples as spit and snot slid down his cheeks. He was shivering in fits every few seconds. Jango ran a hand over his damp, red hair. “Shh. We’re done with the first part, sweetheart. Can you look at me.”

Ben’s lashes, sooty and ridiculously long for a man, fluttered as he struggled to understand what Jango was saying. Jango waited patiently hand in his Jedi’s hair. There was a wet, gurgle as Ben tried to swallow. Then, painfully, he turned his head towards Jango. “Good boy,” Jango soothed. “Breathe for me. As soon as you’re ready, I’m going to take your gag off.” Ben took a few more wet breaths before giving a small nod.

Jango carefully unbuckled the straps and pulled the ring out of Ben’s mouth. Ben flexed his jaw slowly then whispered, voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable. “I’m so sorry, Jango.”

“I know you are, sweetheart.” Jango gently massaged Ben’s aching jaw. “You’re taking your punishment so well.” The words made Ben shudder and prompted a fresh trickle of tears. “Will you be okay if I get your legs down?”

Ben nodded. Jango patted his chest reassuringly before he stood up, removed the toy carefully, and unclipped Ben’s ankles from the armor rack, folding them carefully one at a time to the floor. His Jedi was more coherent than he liked, and his whipped cock was still, disappointingly, half-hard. Ben groaned when his thighs brushed, splaying his knees to avoid anything touching.

Jango breathed through his nose and ignored how the sound made his own cock twitch. He wouldn’t be fucking Ben tonight apparently. Since the caning had been a little too enjoyable. “I’m going to get you a water pouch,” Jango informed him. “Keep breathing for me, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

Jango kept up a quiet patter of words as he collected a water pouch. He let Ben suck half of it down before setting it to the side. “Almost done now. Ready?” Ben reluctantly nodded.

Jango clipped Ben’s ankles to the base of the poles, spreading his legs again but letting him lay flat on the floor. Then he went to the kitchenette area and checked on the roasts. While he was there he picked up the bottle of dangerously red chili oil he’d used to flavor the meat. From the medkit, he took out a pair of thin, durarubber gloves.

Ben stared when Jango sat the oil down next to his head. Obviously he’d never been foolish enough to not wash his hands before using the fresher after doing food prep. “I’m not letting you keep the gag for this, because I want to hear you,” Jango told him as he put on the gloves. The metal clips on Ben’s ankles clicked against the poles of the rack as Ben shuddered. Jango lightly prodded the abused flesh of Ben’s inner thighs as well as his swollen cock and balls, checking for anything that might need bacta.

“You take a whipping beautifully, sweetheart. Next time I’ll use a leather strap so we can see if the marks look different.” Ben was nervous, but relatively calm, when Jango picked up the oil. Jango poured a thin stream of red oil across the rosy flesh of Ben’s inner thighs, cock, and balls with his left hand. With his right, he smeared the oil into a thin layer. He continued adding oil until it coated everywhere he’d caned, including the rim of Ben’s hole.

Ben let out a soft sigh of relief, but Jango knew nothing would happen immediately. It took time for the burning to start. With that in mind he tidied up, disposing of the gloves and putting away the oil. He sat down on the edge of his bed with his armor and cleaning kit next to him to have something to do as he waited.

The first sign the oil was working was a soft hiss as Ben shifted his hips uncomfortably. He cleared his throat. The chain between the binders clinked in the quiet as he adjusted his hands. Jango hurried up and finished with his helmet to set it aside. Ben was blinking rapidly and kept tugging at his hands and legs setting metal ringing against metal. “Jango?” he said uncomfortably.

“It won’t injure you,” Jango promised as he sat down next to him. “Just hurt slightly less than having red hot metal pressed to your skin.” There was a loud rattle as Ben reflexively tried to close his knees. Jango ran his fingers lightly over his own cock as Ben’s eyes got wider and wider when the uncomfortable prickling started to build towards scalding pain.

Ben writhed, covered in sweat. He kept rolling his hips in a useless attempt to control the burning. He was red all over as if Jango hadn’t been judicious with the application of oil. His limp cock was painfully swollen, and every time it moved Ben hissed. Jango took pity on him and reached over to pinch his nipples just to give him a new kind of pain to focus on. The pressure made Ben cry out, twisting to escape the new torment, trying to use his elbows to knock Jango’s hands away.

“Poor thing,” Jango murmured, moving his hand back to his cock and stroking leisurely. “It’s your fault for liking it too much. I beat you bloody and worked you until you came dry, and you were still hard. I needed something that actually made an impression. Originally, I was going to take you back to the ship and strap you to the table in medbay. Lucky for you, I realized I had another option.”

“Please no,” Ben gasped suddenly. “Please don’t.” He was shaking, thrusting his hips up to get away from the burning, but the movement only made the sensation worse Jango knew. The tears were back, flowing even more rapidly.

Jango lifted up the stick that he’d been whittling on while he watched Ben suffer. This one was twice as thick as the first. “I told you I wasn’t going to stop even if you begged me.” He’d cut his new cane short to better control his swings while kneeling on the floor. The test blow against his arm, just above the first, thudded rather than stung. “Be glad I left you on your back. I could have rolled you over and forced you to rub your sore, little cock against the floor while I beat your ass.”

Ben started sobbing when Jango brought the cane down on the outside of his left thigh. He screamed when Jango landed the second blow opposite the first.

Jango only made one pass with the heavy cane, moving slower so Ben had time to appreciate the different flavors of pain. He also wasn’t sure how much more Ben could safely take. He wanted him unable to walk further than the fresher for the next few days, not permanently damaged. The whimper of relief when Jango put the heavy cane to the side had him reaching down to run a calming hand across Ben’s chest. The oil would still be burning like plasma exhaust and wouldn’t stop for quite awhile even after it was cleaned off.

Ben was leaning as best as he could into Jango’s legs for the little comfort the skin on skin contact offered. Jango moved closer. Ben’s chest was heaving as he sucked in air to breathe through the pain. His hands were clenched into fists with the knuckles pressing up against his chin, face shiny with sweat, spit, and tears. He looked absolutely obscene.

Jango fisted his cock as he traced his eyes across the mess of welts, small cuts, and bruises covering Ben’s well-muscled thighs. Ben would struggle to stand on his own, let alone walk anywhere. Jango stroked himself slow and firm with one hand and pet Ben’s hair with the other. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s over. You’ve been good. It’s over.” He shuddered, spilling himself across the welts on Ben’s stomach.

Clean up went very slowly. Jango used cooking oil to remove the worst of the chili oil before bringing out the damp cleansing wipes. Then he broke down and got a bucket of cold water and soap when dragging the wipes over inflamed skin made Ben moan in agony. The temperature of the water offered temporary relief, at least, as Jango cleaned off the remaining oil. A less intense burn would linger through the next day, but it would decrease in intensity quickly as time passed. Jango disinfected any open wounds, but he left the bacta gel in the medkit. Ben would be healing unaided from this little lesson.

Jango removed Ben’s posture collar and cuffs, but left his new ankle cuffs, before helping the other man to the fresher for what was going to be a truly unpleasant piss if Jango had to guess. While Ben sorted himself out, Jango put fresh linens on his Jedi’s bed, dealt with latemeal, and dug some old-fashioned cold packs out of the chiller which he wrapped in towels. Bacta was good, but sometimes a cold pack offered better pain relief even if it was psychosomatic.

“Jango?” Ben called weakly. Jango put the cold packs to the side and hurried over to him.

“Any blood?” he asked, letting Ben use him as a crutch for his awkward shuffle towards the bed.

Ben gave him a crooked smile. “Not that I could see. You’re very good at that.”

“Keep that mind next time you think about wandering off, sweetheart. Though I’ll probably just hamstring you if you do it again.” Jango slowly lowered Ben to the bed. While his thighs were a mess, his ass was mostly unmarked which made it easier for him to lay down. Jango locked the padded collar around Ben’s neck before packing the wrapped cold packs between his thighs. “You’re not going anywhere for the next few days so relax.”

Ben frowned. “But the food…”

“Is done, stored, and waiting until you’ve rested enough to want some. Do you need more water?” Jango asked with a hand on Ben’s shoulder to keep him down. He held the water pack to Ben’s mouth when he nodded. “Relax for a bit. The food will still be warm when you’re ready.” He pressed a quick kiss to Ben’s mouth to clean up the lingering drops of water. “And, in case you were wondering, you’re forgiven, sweetheart.”

After Jango had fed Ben and left him to sleep, he hooked up the holoreader he’d given Ben to his datapad. A quick holonet search pulled up a thesis, a slew of environmental studies, and various reports on the moon’s flora. Jango loaded them onto the holoreader for Ben to peruse while he recovered along with a few botany journals and books. They’d hike back to where Ben had found the bush after he recovered, and Jango would find out why the damn thing was so interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Slappychains over on the subobi discord was kind enough to both cure my writers block and do a onceover on these two chapters for me.

Jango carefully shifted the makeshift pot in his arms so he had a hand free to help Ben scramble up the steep slope back to the trail they’d blazed. This was the sixth bush Ben had selected to be replanted and, to Jango’s eyes, it looked identical to all the others. Ben insisted there was a difference and mumbled something about ‘cross-pollination’ with a near sexual fervor in his gorgeous, blue eyes. So Jango fetched a collapsible shovel out of the tool kit, a spare pot from the kitchenette, and took Ben out to stretch his healing legs.

Jango still had no clue what they were actually doing, but Ben was happy to talk about it with no expectation of sensible questions. He had a good voice and without the grating Core accent Jango was content to listen to it all day. It helped fill the silence that had come rushing in after his too-short holo-call with Boba. Boba’s first call had been hours long and meandering, wanting Jango to know everything. Now Jango’s son had scented his prey. He didn’t want to talk to his nervous parent. He wanted to hunt, and Jango didn’t grudge him the brief check-in before Boba got back to the trail.

Still, Ben’s pleasant chatter about the frankly pretty flowering bushes scattered through the woods was a nice distraction. Jango set down the pan with the bush in it next to the spot Ben indicated and picked up the shovel to dig another hole. He grunted, levering the first shovelful of dirt to the side, when he realized that Ben wasn’t just catching his breath. He’d stopped talking.

Jango paused, resting the tip of the shovel in the dirt. “That can’t be everything you know about these damn plants,” he snapped, not bothering to conceal his exasperation. “There were three books on them.”

“I… I thought I might be irritating you,” Ben said, startled.

“Well now you’re annoying me,” Jango snapped then clenched his teeth to keep any other vitriol from slipping out. His control was better than this. “Sorry. It’s got nothing to do with you, Ben.”

Ben looked at him for a long moment so serene Jango wanted to bend him over and slap the black and purple bruising between his legs just to get a reaction. “I don’t mean to overstep, but is your child well?”

Jango winced. He’d been an absolute gundark since Boba’s comm, and he knew it. “Boba’s fine. I would have said something if he was in trouble.” He hadn’t forgotten that Kenobi had been the one to snatch up Boba during that clusterfuck on Geonosis, or that Boba had been returned to Jango with no conditions, no terms, and no demands. “He’s just… growing up. Doesn’t need his parent looking over his shoulder on every job.”

“Yes, they are usually ready to leave us before we’re ready to let them go.” Ben smiled sadly looking down at his hands.

For a moment, Jango forgot. He almost asked Ben about his children. “Boba’s a good kid,” he said to cover his slip. “I just… I forgot how quiet it was before him. I’ve never been more than a few days between him talking my ear off since he figured out how.”

“So you had me talk your ear off about plant species hybridization instead.” Ben hesitantly reached out. When Jango didn’t move away, he rested his hand on Jango’s forearm. “If I could make a suggestion?” Jango nodded for him to continue. “Perhaps we should go back to camp after we finish with this bush. Then I could read something more to your interest aloud?”

Watching Ben lounge on his bed reading something traditional, naked with his legs splayed so Jango could see the lingering damage from the caning, sounded like an excellent distraction. Jango grinned. “I like that plan. We’ll finish planting your new friend before their roots dry out first though.”

The bush was settled carefully in its new home with Ben patting soil gently around its roots and pouring water from Jango’s canteen on the ground around it. Ben said it was to help encourage the root system to spread. It had been a long time since Jango had been a farmer, but the bushes they’d planted the day before were looking healthy.

Jango slung the shovel onto his shoulder. “Let’s get cleaned up.” 

They washed under the waterfall together. Jango noticed the looks Ben kept sneaking from beneath his eyelashes as he scrubbed. Blue eyes lingered on his shoulders, chest, and thighs with flattering interest. Ben hadn’t really been in a position to just look at Jango before. Jango’s stomach swooped with the realization. He knew he’d aged well, but he had aged. The handsome, young commando who’d had his pick of partners and playmates was many years and many lightyears gone. Jango had a bit of paunch over muscle that was still durasteel solid, lines around his eyes and mouth, gray threading through his dark, curly hair, and scars even another Mandalorian would find unnerving.

Ben caught him watching back and ducked his head blushing. “Apologies, Jango.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ben.” Jango braced himself. “Would you like to touch?”

“Yes please.”

Ben gave Jango a tremulous smile as Jango took one of Ben’s hands and placed it on his chest. He settled his free hand on Jango’s pec, thumb tracing the silvery scar tissue around Jango’s nipple. Jango chuckled thickly knowing that Ben was puzzled by the old injury. “That’s what happens when you don’t wean your little wolf early enough. Boba damn near tore it off when he decided he wanted me rather than his mash or a bottle.”

The pad of Ben’s thumb traced the marks Boba’s partially-grown milk teeth had left with something like reverence. Then he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the scar. Jango’s breath caught as he shuddered at the tenderness in the touch. He reached out and curled gentle fingers around Ben’s hip. Ben ran his hands gently down Jango’s chest, tracing muscles then scars only to skip back again as he found the edge of a rib. Jango caught Ben’s hand before it could touch the twisted fold where Tor Vizsla had almost succeeded in gutting him. Ben paused. “Too much?”

“Yes,” Jango said shortly though he lifted Ben’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Ben’s explorations reminded him of a time before Galidraan. Jango had regularly enjoyed laying back on his bunk with another  _ Haat Mando’ad _ on top of him kissing and stroking their way down Jango’s body before he pinned them down and returned the favor. It’d been an act of trust, a mutual devotion between  _ ori’ramikade _ . He wasn’t sure he could endure it again without breaking something. Since the closest something was Ben, Jango wasn’t inclined to experiment.

Ben left Jango to finish his shower, drying himself off and settling on his bed. Jango looked over at the quiet, mechanical beep of Ben’s collar locking in place. It was the first time Ben had put it on himself. Curious, Jango stepped out from under the stream of water to see Ben settled cross legged on the cot with his blanket demurely across his lap and his holoreader in his hands. “Do you have any preference on the selection?” he asked about opening the device’s library.

“Something mindless.” Jango pulled on his soft shirt and leggings. There were armor repairs he’d been putting off and latemeal to make. The tasks were hardly urgent, but they would require enough focus to keep Jango from thinking. That was the most important thing.

Jango glanced over as Ben cleared his throat and began reading. He’d chosen one of the mindless political thriller romances set in the days of the Mandalorian Empire Arla refused to admit she loved. The only redeeming feature was that the author was Mandalorian and wrote them in  _ Mando’a _ . It was a perfect distraction, overwrought and ridiculous enough to be amusing without any of the edges most novels about Mandalorians had to scrap tender places inside him.

There weren’t enough supplies to make a real roba pie. Jango could make meat and vegetables in gravy topped with something like pastry. It would be more time consuming than Jango usually bothered with, but he liked roba pie. Pulling down containers, he lined them up along the small counter in the kitchenette and pulled out a pot to use as a bowl. “You want me to ease up on the mouthburn, sweetheart?”

Ben paused his narration. “Please don’t bother on my account. I’d enjoy some food that tastes like something.”

Jango smiled to himself as he poured powdered grain into the pot. It seemed his little stunt with the chili oil hadn’t ruined his cooking for Ben after all. The blander meals he’d been making them both had been unnecessary. “Alright. I like this book.”

“I thought you would. It’s positively terrible. And it only gets worse. Here, let me show you.” Ben continued to plow through the chapter a combination of exasperation and disbelief coloring his tone during the more florid sections.

Jango replaced the worn leatheris straps on his armor while the pie baked. Ben had started editorializing on some of the ‘politics’ driving the plot much to his amusement. When the pie was finished, Jango dropped some blankets and pillows on the floor next to Ben’s bed then stuck two spoons in the dish and brought it over. They ate it out of the dish together on the floor since Jango didn’t have anything like the low dining table common in traditional Mandalorian houses.

Ben packed away most of the pie with obvious enjoyment. It settled something in Jango to watch him hum in pleasure every few bites. They continued with their book while Jango cleaned up for the night. The plot did not get less hilariously complex much to Ben’s offended amusement.

When the stars were glowing white in the black void above them, and the warm, golden glow of the luma strips illuminating camp shed only enough light to show shadowy movement where the waterfall poured down onto the stone shelf before tumbling into the pool below, Ben paused his reading. Jango had pulled off his shirt in preparation for sleep and was setting the perimeter alarm.

“Jango?” Ben asked uncertainly. There was a rustle of fabric, and when Jango turned to him Ben had moved the blanket away from his lap. He lay back on his bed with his legs spread invitingly. The dim, half-powered luma strip above him cast shadows that made it impossible to tell what was bruising and what was a trick of the light. But Ben’s hands were still curled around his holoreader, holding it against his stomach.

Jango walked over and put one knee on Ben’s mattress. Ben’s leg slid up, bending to better display himself for Jango. Pressing his lips softly to the scar studded skin of Ben’s bent knee, Jango pushed up the welded cable cuff up enough to rub Ben’s knobby ankle. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. Then he gripped Ben’s ankle firmly as he gave a careful tug to lay the lithe limb flat.

Gathering up Ben’s blanket, Jango draped it across him before leaning down to touch their foreheads together. “Do you want the lights on so you can keep reading?”

Cautiously, Ben reached up and dug the knuckles of his index and middle finger into Jango’s cheekbone just a touch too hard to be a caress but too gentle to be anything else. “No, thank you. I’m ready for sleep as well.”

Jango nodded and stood. He turned down all but the luma strips at the front of the cave, to illuminate any unwanted visitors, and settled into bed to attempt sleep before giving in and pacing all night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Slappychains over on the subobi discord was kind enough to both cure my writers block and do a onceover on these two chapters for me.

Jango was whistling as he made his way back up the path to camp. Ben had asked for fish, and Jango had three beauties already gutted and scaled for whatever Ben was planning. Ben had been mysterious about the clippings he’d been taking from his bushes and hanging up to dry or infusing into chili oil. As far as Jango was concerned, it would either be a lovely latemeal or poison them both. In the second case, he had several anti-tox kits ready to go.

Ben was laying on his bed when Jango ducked into the cave. Jango froze and stared as he watched Ben drag his own nails up the black and purple bruises running up the insides of his thighs. With one foot on the floor and the other bent and propped on his bed, Ben had propped his head up with his pillow against the wall to see what he was doing.

As Jango gaped, he trailed his thumb over a bruise that was speckled red despite the yellow-green edges. With his lower lip held tight between his teeth Ben ground his thumb into the mark with a long, needy moan. His other hand was on his half-hard cock, kneading the fading bruises on the shaft before plucking at his foreskin.

“Ben?” Jango’s question was strangled as Ben pulled his thumb away from the bruise and slapped it with a hard crack.

“Jango!” The near scream had Jango dropping the fish and running forward. He wasn’t sure what he was intending only that he needed to be next to Ben. Ben’s blue eyes opened, bright with tears as he panted. “Jango?”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Jango said, leaning over him and pressing the beskar plate on the back of his gauntlet to the bruise Ben had just struck. “What are you up to?”

Ben let out a long, relieved sigh at the soothing sensation of cold, smooth metal countering the sharp sting. “You haven’t touched me in days.” There was a hint of whine in his tone. “I got bored.”

Jango had been leaving Ben alone out of gratitude for the kindness the other man had shown him. After beating Jango had been forced to give him, he’d assumed Ben would appreciate the time to heal fully before Jango stuck his cock anywhere. “Wait. What?” Jango said stupidly.

Reaching up Ben grabbed Jango’s pauldron, a sinuous roll shuddering through his body as he rubbed himself against Jango’s gauntlet. “You haven’t given me a suppressant in seventy-two hours, Jango.” When Jango stared dumbly at him, the corner of Ben’s brilliant eyes crinkled as he smiled then it hesitantly slipped into a more nervous expression when Jango remained silent. “You still want me, right?”

“Yes. Of course, I want you, sweetheart,” Jango said in a near growl wrapping his gloved fingers gently around Ben’s cock teasing it with the double stitched seams in the leatheris. “You’re mine. My mutt. My toy.” He felt Ben’s cock jerk even through his gauntlet, but there was a flash of discomfort in the blue eyes. “My pet?” he tried instead setting aside his own unease at the reaction for the moment.

“I’ve got your collar around my neck.” Ben tilted his head back displaying it. “What else would I be?”

That stirred the heat already burning in Jango’s gut from the sight of Ben torturing his own cock. “My pet, sweetheart. Just some pretty little holes to fuck. Pretty pink skin to bruise up. Pretty blue eyes to cry while you beg me to hurt you more.” He chewed on his own lip hoping he’d gotten it right. Ben had never asked for anything but a few soft touches and more pain. Even then he’d never used words. 

“Take your armor off, Jango, please,” Ben said a bit breathily as the pink flush on his cheeks and chest darkened. “Please, I want to watch.” With a sly smile he added, “And keep talking.”

Jango pushed himself up, swallowing hard. “Play with your nipples for me, sweetheart. Pinch them until they’re nice and hard. I want a show too.” Ben whimpered as he reached up for his chest. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you’ve already lubed up my favorite little hole to fuck.” Jango started with his vambraces remembering advice he’d gotten so long he couldn’t remember who’d given it to him. When you were taking your armor off for your  _ riduur _ save the  _ buy’ce _ for last so you were already burning for them when they saw your eyes.

“How many fingers did you stuff yourself with wishing it was my cock?” Jango demanded as he started placing his armor on its rack.

Ben arched his chest up as he plucked at the hard, pink peaks with the edge of his nails, encouraging them to swell enough to give him something to grasp. “Only two. I didn’t want to be too loose.”

“Such a good boy,” Jango crooned, lifting off his cuirass and unbuckling his gunbelt. “So sweet for me, making sure you’re just the kind of hot, tight fuck I like. Twist those soft, little nipples for me. Hard as you can, sweetheart. It should hurt.” He shivered in satisfaction as Ben obeyed. Ben whined softly through gritted teeth as he tugged his own nipples up, stretching the flushed skin, and turned them cruelly between his fingers until tears sprung up in the corners of his eyes.

“Good boy,” Jango repeated, not missing how the phrase made Ben’s cock bob. “You’re so beautiful when you let me hurt you. Every time you let out one of those little whimpers I want to shove my cock down your throat and feel them. And you’re such a good boy you’d just open up your mouth. Right, sweetheart? Words now.”

Ben gasped as he rolled his nipples between his nails. “Yes. Whatever you want, Jango. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Jango tugged off his flight suit trying to ignore how his hands were trembling. “That’s right, sweetheart. You're my pet, my good boy. So I get to do whatever I want to you.” He gritted his teeth and hung up his flightsuit properly before lifting the helmet off his head. Setting it in the center of the rack, he indulged himself with a few strokes to his hard cock. Just enough to make his stomach clench. Ben’s eyes followed the motions with gratifying interest.

Ben bared his throat when Jango strode over to lean over him. This time they were skin to skin as Ben’s knees brushed Jango’s when Jango stepped between the spread legs. Bracing himself with one arm against the mattress, Jango tugged Ben’s hands away from his now red nipples. “Oh sweetheart, thank you,” Jango breathed making sure the warm, wet air brushed over the tender points. “That looks painful. Let me help.” He licked his lips before pressing a soft kiss to one swollen bud, caressing it with lips and tongue before sucking delicately. Ben’s moan was equally gentle as a tentative hand threaded itself through the short hair at the nape of Jango’s neck.

With a final, soothing lap, Jango lifted his mouth away from the abused nipple. “Don’t pull and you can hold onto me,” he rumbled before kissing his way across the still thin chest to the other bud to give it the same treatment. Except instead of pulling away with a little tooka kit lick, Jango bit down curious to see if Ben would pull his hair.

Instead, a second hand came up to cradle Jango’s head and pushed him down into Ben’s chest as Ben gasped, arching up into Jango’s teeth. Laving the nipple he’d just bitten, Jango sighed happily. “Sweet as uj and so good for me.” He kissed his way up Ben’s chest and throat to his mouth. Ben’s hands slid down to Jango’s shoulders, tugging him closer as they traded soft presses of lips.

Jango pulled back to catch his breath. “You’ve been a good boy, sweetheart. So I’m going to let you decide how I fuck you. Tell me what you want.” When Ben started to gnaw nervously at his bottom lip, Jango kissed him until he stopped. “You don’t have to. I can choose, but it would make me happier if you told me.” Kissing Ben’s nose he added, “I might not give it to you.”

Ben chuckled. “You’re so mean to me.” He didn’t sound displeased by the thought. “I… Can I show you instead?”

“Of course.” Jango straightened up to give Ben room to move.

Ben pulled up his legs and rolled over tucking his knees under him so his ass was in the air, legs spread so Jango could see his bruises, and his cheek and hands were pressed against the mattress. “Could I have my cuffs? And could you spank me?” Ben asked, trying not to sound timid.

Jango put his hands on the cheeks of Ben’s rounded ass massaging lightly with his fingers. “Of course. Would you like me to tie your ankles as well so you can’t close your legs?” Ben’s shudder was all the answer he needed. Scratching the join where ass met thigh lightly with his nails, Jango considered Ben’s bed. Ben still had his ankle cuffs, and the soft collar that attached him to the wall would serve as an anchor point for the cuffs. Jango needed line of some kind. He didn’t usually use rope since binders were quicker to get people into and out of. “I’m going to step over to the armor rack to get what we need.” Jango patted Ben’s currently unmarked ass fondly. “Stay here.”

The liquid polymer he used in his grappling cable provided the line Jango needed to secure Ben’s ankles. He made sure to shoot the line so it nearly skimmed Ben’s side before using his knife to sever the line from his vambrace and cut off the metal head. He divided the cord in half then resheathed his knife. The sound of sharp metal against leatheris made Ben huff out a small, nervous breath Jango was going to remember.

Jango wrapped an arm around Ben pulling him back to sit on his heels. Pressing a kiss to his temple, Jango murmured, “Hands, sweetheart.” Ben tucked his loose fists sweetly to his throat so Jango could lock them in place. With his hands cuffed at his neck, Jango lowered Ben’s forehead back to the mattress slowly using the collar to keep him from falling forward. Then he secured the cuffs around Ben’s ankles to the legs of the bed with the cords to keep him from sliding his legs closed to protect his balls and inner thighs.

Jango settled himself behind Ben running his hands over the smooth skin of his back and ass. He reached down to adjust his cock so it slid between the full cheeks as he rolled his hips, teasing the slick rim of Ben’s hole. “I’m just going to check you aren’t too loose,” he murmured with a reassuring hand on Ben’s hip. He gripped himself firmly and pressed his cock into Ben tensing his whole body to stop himself from thrusting hard into the tight, welcoming clench of heat. “Perfect. Stars, you’re such a good boy, sweetheart.”

Ben moaned softly trying to impale himself further, but Jango grabbed his hips to stop his wiggling. “Did I say you could do that?”

“No?” Ben asked just a curl of snide in his tone.

Jango grinned. “No, I didn’t.” He brought his hand in a proper smack catching Ben’s left asscheek from the underside and lifting it up into a lovely jiggle. Ben let out a breathy little noise he muffled in the mattress. Jango rubbed the red mark rising on the pale, freckled skin. “That’s pretty.” Reluctantly, he pulled out of Ben. “Shh, just need a better angle.” He began to spank slow and light aiming for the sweet spot, properly warming up the skin so Ben wouldn’t have to struggle to enjoy himself.

Then, when Ben was leaning into the strikes, Jango adjusted the angle of his hand and slapped the bruises between Ben’s legs in four short, sharp hits alternating sides. Ben cried out rocking forward with the force of the blows. Immediately, Jango pushed his cock back into Ben, massaging the pinked ass as he thrust. “Good boy. You took that perfectly. Breathe for me.” Jango breathed loudly to get Ben’s wet inhales on the rhythm. “Good boy. I’m going to start again now.”

Still thrusting into Ben’s tight ass, Jango spanked as he went. He was good at this, at building up that wave of pain until his partner went skidding down the other side in ecstasy then coddling them through the trough to rise again. With Ben he hadn’t bothered to put in the effort. Ben seemed to enjoy the harder-edged kinds of pain that would make most beings beg to stop. Jango appreciated that, but he also liked making Ben whine and wiggle looking for something to push him over the next wave instead bracing himself to endure it.

Jango pulled out again slapped both his hands down Ben’s inner thighs before raking with his nails. Ben screamed, hard, flushed cock starting to leak. Shoving back into that tight hole, Jango fucked him through the wash of endorphins before massaging the red, speckled marks starting to form on Ben’s ass. He was starting to feel the impact in his own hand, but decades of combat training had left him with thick callouses and high pain tolerance when hitting things. “Breathe,” Jango reminded himself as much as Ben. “Breathe for me, sweetheart. You’re being so good for me. Next time I’ll spank your balls. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Ben made a confused noise, half protest, half lustful groan. Jango leaned down to press a fond kiss to the small of his back. “I know it hurts, but you’re mine, sweetheart. You’ll be good and let me do whatever I want, right?”

“Yes,” Ben babbled. “Yes, please. Jango!”

Jango started up the spanking again, keeping the impacts light for the moment as Ben remembered to breathe. Slowly, he built the intensity letting his cock slip out of Ben’s twitching, clinging hole to get a better angle to grab between slaps. After each strike he grabbed a handful of sweet, rosy flesh and squeezed with just the slightest sting as his nails dug in. Ben whined and rocked his hips back into the rough touch. So Jango gave him several sharp, stinging slaps before going back to grabbing after each hit. “Ready? Breathe in,” Jango ordered as he gave one last fond squeeze to his glorious handful of ass.

Ben obediently breathed in. Jango’s next hit landed four fingers held stiffly together against the tender skin of Ben’s sack. With a high-pitched cry, Ben rocked forward, legs jerking against their restraints. Jango repeated the motion two more times before cradling the abused balls gently in his palm, rolling them lightly against his fingers. “Good boy. You took those hits very well, sweetheart. Just one more time so I can spank your pretty cock. Then I’ll fuck that desperate little hole properly.”

There was a quiet sob as Ben pulled himself back together, spreading his legs even further. Jango alternated petting and scratching down the reddened flesh of Ben’s ass to the black and yellow of his thighs and back up. He waited until Ben started relaxing into his touch to land several heavy, cupped-handed blows over Ben’s hole letting the impact carry through the meaty tissue of his ass cheeks to where he really wanted the touch. Ben yowled pushing his face down into the mattress and shoving his ass further up to beg for more.

Jango indulged him landing slow, heavy blows that thudded audibly when they landed. He rubbed the marks he left between each hit trying to restrain himself from giving in and just shoving himself back into the clinging heat of Ben’s hole and rutting until he spent. He bit the inside of his cheek until it stung to bring himself under control, taking a moment to press kisses to the reddened cheeks being so invitingly offered up to him. “Almost there, sweetheart.”

After a few more heavy spanks to continue the pattern he’d been building, Jango shifted his stance so his hand could hit easily between Ben’s legs. He aimed for the pink, leaking head bobbing and jerking as Ben eagerly awaited more punishment. Two quick, stinging swats to the balls had Ben tipping further forward, instinctively trying to get away, which gave Jango more room to work with. He only managed one, solid hit to the head of Ben’s cock before his hand was being splattered with pearly fluid.

Ben cried out in true upset. Jango threw himself onto the mattress, pressing himself over Ben comfortingly and fisting Ben’s cock to work him through it. “Shh, good boy, sweetheart. That’s it. All nice and sensitive for me. Good boy. You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart. You’re good.”

Jango maneuvered himself with his hand still on Ben’s cock so he was buried to the hilt in Ben’s ass. “But I’m not going to stop until I’m finished,” he warned cheerfully. Then he started rolling his hips, pumping Ben’s still hard cock at the same time. “Go on, sweetheart, tell me how it feels.”

“Hurts,” Ben rasped tearfully. “Please, Jango, harder.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything for my good boy.” Jango got both knees on the mattress and one arm around Ben’s hips so he could pound the taller man properly. Their hips slapped together hard enough Ben would be feeling it on his already reddened skin. The whole time Jango didn’t stop tugging on his spent cock, forcing it to stay hard for him. When he came, Jango bit down on Ben’s pale shoulder, digging his teeth in possessively until Ben whined in protest.

Jango rested his forehead between Ben’s shoulders as he caught his breath. “Good boy, sweetheart,” he repeated just in case Ben wasn’t clear on the fact Jango didn’t care about him spending early. “You did good.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to come all over my hand when I spanked your cock like something out of holoporn?” Jango asked wryly. “I didn’t tell you not to, sweetheart. And I liked it. You’re good.”

Ben chuckled roughly. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Jango nipped the back of his neck in warning. “I do.” He reached down and undid the knots around Ben’s ankle cuffs. “You want space?”

The binders around Ben’s wrists clattered. “No,” Ben said emphatically. “Please stay.”

“Easy. I’ll stay,” Jango promised with a kiss to Ben’s shoulder. He moved them so they were both on the bed properly with their heads on Ben’s pillow, Ben’s back to Jango’s chest. Jango had left his hips pressed tight to Ben’s to keep his cock inside him as it softened. Rather than lay on his arm, he tucked it under Ben’s head wrapping it around to stroke the fine, red hair. His other hand smoothed and down Ben’s hip and side in steady motions. Ben seemed content with the position, hands curved under his chin and eyes closed.

The sensitive tip of Jango’s finger found another scar beneath Ben’s hair a handspan behind his ear. The niggling unease that had hit him at Ben’s reaction to being called a toy returned. Jango hesitated but you didn’t become one of the best bounty hunter’s in the galaxy by being incurious. “When I was calling you names, sweetheart, would it have been better or worse if I’d said ‘doll’?”

Ben shuddered, and Jango didn’t blame him. He had the same, visceral reaction to the pretty, empty-eyed bodies found in brothels across the Outer Rim. Mind-wiped slaves were popular with the hutts. Those, like Jango, who took the hutt money only because it was money called them ‘dolls’ instead of crueller monikers. “Shh, not going to happen,” Jango promised Ben squeezing him tighter and tossing a leg over the longer, paler ones. “You know that using psychotropics to prevent a mind-wipe is a myth, right? You were just poisoning yourself.”

“Psychotropics can’t prevent a full wipe, but they do make a partial, targeted wipe significantly more difficult,” Ben said softly, thick and tremulous with grief but too tired to cry anymore. “I couldn’t risk them trying again if I was captured.”

“How many times did they try before you escaped the first time?” Jango asked tracing the scars where clamps and electrodes had been attached.

Ben huffed out a humorless chuckle. “Not enough obviously.”

Jango pressed gentle kisses to the freckles on Ben’s shoulders. “I’ll kill you first. Even if I hadn’t… I would have brought you in cold if I knew what they intended. You know that right?”

“I know.” Ben’s cuffed hands tugged at Jango’s arm until he moved his hand so Ben could clasp it between both of his. “I think you’re the only one left I can trust not to be swayed by the extra credits.”

“Doesn’t matter now. You’re Ben, my pet. No one’s going to look twice at Jango Fett’s bedwarmer. Not unless they’re tired of living.” Jango smiled when Ben squeezed his fingers in silent thanks. He was still thinking when Ben fell asleep in his arms. When they returned to Concord Dawn, he’d go to a public terminal and run a few data searches. 


End file.
